Arc Three. Chapter Sixty-Six. Consequences

Peter's day had not been going well at all. First, the girls had all complained about his new armour form, claiming it was too big and bulky. The last straw had been when Felicia pointed out it looked like the Goblin armour and that she refused to go patrolling with him. It had been a chore but he mentally strained himself to compress the armour and slim back down, much to the approval of everyone. Then his attempts to assimilate with other technology failed, not only that but right now, Gwen and Liv were sitting giving him a lecture.

"No offence Peter but uh, we already knew about that power, so why are you in a huff?"

Gwen put a cup of coffee in front of Peter, who was sitting slouched in his chair with his arms crossed.

"I mean, I'm a chemist and Poison can reproduce any chemical I can think of, MJ is an actress and Muse can replicate her clothes into any style she likes, and Huntress is well, Huntress, stealth isn't that much of a stretch"

"And I've got night vision," Felicia shouted from the kitchen.

"See. Wait? Night vision, really?" Gwen shouted back.

"But still," Peter huffed, "I just didn't think about it, I mean, what about my cool visor?"

"Peter dear, I know you're brilliant but really? You glued some sunglasses to a Bluetooth headset, it's not exactly an award-winning design," Liv added, blowing on her own coffee. "The real reason dear Peter is in a huff is I wouldn't let him take the microwave apart too, and I quote 'make a cool radiation gun'."

Gwen shook her head "Uh yeah Pete, radiation isn't a really great weapon. I mean, you could literally cook someone, so no. No radiation guns"

Peter made a hmph noise, and Liv sighed, "and that's why he's in a huff."

"Show him your boobs," MJ shouted and as she walked from her home she noticed a light coming from one of the offices. "Hey, did you guys leave something running?"

"I've got the harness parts being analysed but uh, nothing major why?" Peter shouted back, staring with a grin as both Gwen and Liv lifted their tops. Liv looked over at the young woman and winked in appreciation, leaving Gwen blushing at Liv's wandering eyes.

"Nothing," MJ shouted back, and peeking her head around the door saw the screen flicker and then die. She shrugged and closed the door. A few more moments and she would have caught it, that brief flicker of life on the screen.

IF

I=Electro

THEN

Peter Parker=Dead

In another lab, in another part of town, another screen flicked into life as well, a tech reading its contents pushed his intercom. "Subject 95, Deceased, returning symbiote to its container."

They never repeated the success of either the first attempt or the kid who was brought in. Each time the subject just simply died on the table, the symbiotes overtaxing their bodies. He pressed a few buttons with his one good arm, the other still in a sling from the kid's attack, and the shocks drove the symbiote into its box.

"Symbiote 02 Returned to Containment"

The technician wondered if the bonding process was flawed and that maybe the kid was just lucky but his boss overruled him, the symbiotes were healthy, it was the subjects that were to blame.

"Hey," he heard his boss shout, "it's your turn," and he cursed.

He hated going in there with subject 0, his creepy stares and his weird laugh. "Fine, fine." He gathered the nutrient powder into its bottle, added water and shook it to mix it. Number 7 was his favourite. Coffee.

"Open Subject 0 containment," he shouted at the end of the corridor, and a door slammed behind him. Once subject 0 had escaped and killed 14 men before being subdued, he was now held in special restraints designed to kill rather than incapacitate if he escaped again.

"Why, howdy warden," the man drawled, turning his head as far around as he could. He was a skinny man but even so, the tech kept his distance. He was unshaven and his thick red hair hung down in scruffy locks over his eyes, no one had been willing to take a blade anywhere near him, not after the last time. Thick chains held him to the wall, and clamps held him at the waist, ankles, wrists, and neck restricting his movement. "I heard on the news that Norman Osborn killed a whole buncha people."

The tech slid the drink bottle into its holder, and pressing a button it slid into the clear glass cell, a hatch slamming down closing it. As the man sipped at the cold drink through its thick straw, unable to move more than his head.

"I hear its absolute carnage out there," he said, his high pitched laugh echoing around his room as the terrified technician fled the cell.

Far from the clean labs and bright lights, one man didn't find the situation amusing at all, and when he watched Norman kill the soldier and then climb into the armour, he absentmindedly rubbed where his arm used to be.

He had worked tirelessly to build working lab equipment from scrap, stealing old junked machines from hospitals, and even on occasion woke to find that his other had just stolen them. He hoped nothing was damaged, and no one was injured when he had an episode.

Down here he was safe, he had to venture up sometimes but he waited until he was sure he was in control, was sure he wouldn't slip. The machines needed samples and he needed food, the other might like rats but he wanted vegetables, he wanted clean water, and sugar for coffee. As he slotted another sample into the machine he even thought about the woman he had met and hoped he could be above ground more often.

The machine dinged, and he turned the monitor to check the results.

"Sample 489 incompatible," the machine beeped at him and he roared in rage.

"No no!" he yelled, and his lab coat, filthy and tattered began to expand. His face began to stretch and grow, and the sickening crunch of bones as his missing arm regrew,

"Yes, yes," the new monster hissed, "Osborn will taste our pain, Osborn will pay," lifting a sample bottle the green-scaled monster scribbled a note with a thick pen.

"Sample 490 testing in progress"

In stark contrast to the underground lab, a man stood looking out of his penthouse window, his clean tailored white suit fitting his massive body perfectly.

"How bad?" his voice rumbled as he spoke.

The other man in the office, a smartly dressed African American with close-shaven hair and a goatee, lay a file down on the sparkling clean glass desk. "In the Kitchen, we lost two dens, both taken out by Venom and a new partner, another enhanced and then another as they fought the new ETF."

"Projected losses."

"They were cleaned out, girls, drugs and cash went when the guys got there, just a message." Opening the file he flicked to a photograph of the message Venom sprayed on the wall of the building.

"Play nice, or don't play at all"

"Projected Losses?"

"Insurance will pay on all three, losses there are mainly men, those were establishments catering to a certain clientele, the girls that were rescued were pickups, so no loss there and no cash or drugs on site, not at those two anyway. The first, half a mill right now with a further quarter mill expected once the books are checked, the second puts back a quarter mill in insurance and sets your other plan forwards a month. The last one is a bit better, no cash or drugs, just some guns and someone dead we suspected of skimming."

The hulk of a man clenched his fists, "not good enough."

"Your orders then?"

"Eliminate them. Find them and kill them, I don't need answers, just bodies Aaron, can you do it?"

"I'll need the hardware, but yes, I think so."

"Good, you have my go ahead. Oh and Aaron, buy up all that Oscorp stock that Harry Osborn dumped."

"Boss?"

"Just a feeling, but having legitimate ties are always a good thing."

Aaron nodded, "I'll pass the word along," and with a small bow, "Good Night Mr Fisk."

Wilson Fisk had just finished watching the press conference given by Harry Osborn, his well dressed exterior hiding the smugness that knew his father had finally snapped.

Wilson saw through the mask, it was the same one he wore in public as well, and he knew that while Venom and this new enhanced were a thorn, it was ultimately Harry Osborn that was going to be the blade in his side. It was the package Aaron had handed over that sealed the deal. Osborn was working a new angle, and one Fisk and his associates weren't part of.

Three bright blue vials and files, Alexsi Sytsevich, Maxwell Dillon and Flint Marko were all there. Details on their powers or "enhancements" as the reports had called them. Only Venom and his partner's identity were still secret, and details of their actual abilities were all from eyewitnesses. Wilson knew exactly who these vials were destined for but first, he rewound the video and hit play once more, watching and learning.

"Yesterday, we witnessed a tragedy, the loss of life was immeasurable and the actions of one man were unconscionable. Like many of you, I saw my father, Norman Osborn as a rock, a foundation on which our society not only stood but prospered."

"Oscorp is the leading technology company in not just the United States but around the world, but yesterday," Harry paused, "yesterday we failed. The efforts my father put into saving people ultimately cost us all more."

"My last act as a board member of Oscorp is to set aside 10 million dollars to help the families of those who lost their loved ones in what was ultimately Norman Osborn's hubris and arrogance."

"The money will set up bereavement counsellors, help with bills, mortgages, and pay for the surgeries of those fortunate enough to have escaped." Harry raised his hand, "and now I know, it's all PR, right? To shine a torch away from what was wrong with Norman and I can say, with full sincerity, that you are wrong."

"Norman's office security camera footage has been handed to the US military and Shield as evidence, as have his medical records. We were allowing a full audit of Oscorp to be held, those responsible, both my father and his personal assistant Doctor Olivia Octavious, are under investigation."

"I will also be divesting myself of Oscorp, all my stocks and shares are being sold and all my assets within the company are being liquidated."

"I am as outraged and as horrified by my father's actions as you are, and I hope that the good people who suffered under this tragedy find some modicum of peace, of hope with these small actions, and I hope that the fine law enforcement officials bring those responsible to justice. Thank you."

To a stunned crowd, Harry walked off the stage, before yesterday even began he had work crews moving and emptying everything he needed not just from the archive but from his own personal server. Files were carefully altered before being added in, the footage of his father injecting the neural enhancer, normally deleted were restored and everything pointing to Norman and Liv were wrapped in a big bow. Herry was sure an aspiring tech or investigator would see it was too well packaged but right now, no one would care. There was even talk of suspending normal court procedures and trying his father without capturing him first as his crimes were so severe, which made Harry smile.

His earpiece beeped and he touched it,

"Sir, the move is complete, everything has been moved and cleaning has been completed."

"Good, I'll be back in the office in an hour." Touching the earpiece the call was cut off. Oscorp was dying and anyone with an ounce of sense could tell. Various lawsuits had been filed. The patents for the glider and armour had been seized and even Hammer had begun to make efforts to snatch bites out of the behemoth before it could recover. With Oscorp gone he could now focus on the important research. His new company, Life Foundation, wasn't going to run itself.