Outside the New York Police Department, the constant flow of patrol cars, officers, and civilians created the organized chaos typical of the city that never sleeps.
The main doors of the building opened, and a middle-aged man stepped out with calm, perfectly measured strides.
He wore an impeccable black suit, tailor-made, paired with polished leather shoes that reflected the afternoon light. His graying hair was slicked back with precision.
Behind him came George Stacy, adjusting his coat as he accompanied him to the sidewalk.
"Thank you very much for cooperating with our investigation," George said in a professional tone.
The man smiled politely—a practiced smile, the kind that never quite reached the eyes.
"It was nothing, Captain Stacy," he replied casually. "I had the opportunity to meet Peter Parker. He and my son, Harry, are classmates. A brilliant boy… truly very intelligent."
He sighed, bringing a hand to his tie knot, as if genuinely distressed.
"I never imagined something like this could happen because of my company." He paused briefly, choosing his words carefully. "If I can help with anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."
That man was Norman Osborn.
CEO of Oscorp, the largest biotechnology company in the United States—and, to many, one of the most powerful men in the country.
"I appreciate it, Osborn," George replied bluntly. "See you later."
Norman nodded one last time and headed toward the car waiting for him.
---xXx---
Already seated in the back seat of one of his luxurious vehicles, Norman loosened his tie with an impatient gesture and let out a long sigh, dropping the cordial façade he had maintained until then.
"Connors…" he muttered, his tone heavy with frustration. "I truly thought you would make a name for yourself with this."
His gaze turned to the tinted window.
"But not like this."
What Norman wanted was never a humanitarian miracle.
He wanted results.
After years of investing absurd amounts of money into Dr. Curt Connors's research, all he had received in return was an unstable, dangerous project—and now, a police problem. For a man like Norman Osborn, that was unacceptable.
All the research data had been immediately confiscated.
And as an excellent scientist himself, the moment Norman laid eyes on those files, he felt something awaken inside him.
He intended to study everything personally.
Unfortunately, the police had come knocking before he had enough time to do so.
"Sir," said the secretary seated beside him, handing over a tablet. "The media has already started to move. If this leaks, it could cause considerable negative impact for Oscorp."
Norman cast a quick glance at the screen, seeing speculative headlines and the names of reporters he knew all too well.
"Reporters…" he commented with disdain. "They're like flies."
After a few seconds of thought, he handed the tablet back.
"We don't need to get involved," he concluded. "All the recent news is focused on Stark Industries and Tony Stark's ridiculous decision. If we stay silent, no one will pay attention to this."
"Understood, sir," the secretary replied.
The car began to move smoothly down the avenue.
---
Outside, George Stacy watched the vehicle drive away, the sound of its engine gradually disappearing into New York traffic.
Beside him, Jake Peralta kept his hands in his coat pockets, rocking lightly on his heels with a curious smile on his face.
"Captain Stacy, being totally honest?" Jake commented. "I didn't expect it to be so… easy to talk to Norman Osborn. Like, he didn't try to take over the world, didn't laugh maniacally, nothing."
George didn't respond right away.
His gaze remained fixed on the spot where the car had vanished.
Norman Osborn is a wolf in sheep's clothing… he thought. And that became very clear during this investigation.
"Get back to work, Detective Peralta," he finally said, turning around. "We're going to need overtime tonight."
Jake's eyes widened, but he quickly broke into a broad grin.
"Overtime? Working directly with Captain George Stacy?" He tapped his own chest. "You got it! I'll let Captain Holt know he'll have to share my exceptional talent for a bit longer."
"Do that," George replied. "And tell him I'll need you for some time."
"Understood, Captain Stacy!" Jake replied, almost saluting.
As he walked, a thought shot through his mind like a rocket:
HAHAHA! I'm totally rubbing this in Amy's face when I get back. Jake Peralta, elite detective, working with Captain Stacy. Suck it, Santiago!!
---xXx---
Just as George and Jake were about to head back inside the precinct, a strange commotion caught their attention.
Several men were running desperately toward the building, stumbling over their own feet, gasping for air, eyes wide with pure terror.
"Hey, hey…" Jake frowned. "That doesn't look like a charity run."
The men reached the precinct gate and practically clung to the bars.
For the first time in their lives, they were genuinely happy to be there.
They were the men who had escaped from the Lizard.
"O-officer!" one of them stammered, trembling from head to toe. "W-we saw a… a m-monster!"
"A monster?" Jake raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Like… Godzilla-level, or creepy-guy-on-the-subway-at-3-a.m. level?"
George, on the other hand, immediately understood what that meant.
"Are you serious?" he asked firmly. "Did you really see a monster?"
"It's true!" another man replied, almost crying. "A lizard! A giant humanoid lizard!"
He gestured frantically, as if trying to draw the creature in the air.
"It was on Sixth Avenue!" another shouted. "That thing was terrifying!"
Jake smiled incredulously.
"Right, sure. A giant, humanoid lizard." He made air quotes. "Any chance this was just… I don't know, a really convincing cosplay?"
George was already moving.
"Team, with me!" he ordered, striding quickly in the direction the men had indicated.
Officers immediately began to mobilize.
"Captain?!" Jake's eyes widened for half a second—before he grinned. "Hey, hey, wait! I'm coming too!"
"Peralta, this could be dangerous!"
"Danger is my middle name!" Jake replied, already running after them. "Okay, it's not, but it should be!"
---xXx---
Going back a little in time, before Arthur met Gwen at the precinct entrance.
*POV — ARTHUR*
Coming home after everything always had a strange taste for me.
No matter how many battles I fight, crossing the threshold of my house is still the moment when I truly feel the weight of what it means to be alive.
Saeko came to my side, taking off her shoes right at the entrance.
"Finally home," she said, stretching, her ponytail swaying from side to side.
I smiled without even realizing it.
"I'll make dinner. As promised."
"Lasagna?" Her eyes lit up instantly.
"Yes. The best lasagna of your life," I replied.
She threw her arms up, celebrating as if she had just won the lottery.
---xXx---
We sat down at the table a few minutes later. Saeko attacked her plate without the slightest bit of ceremony.
"DAD, THIS IS ABSURDLY GOOD," she said with her mouth full, completely incapable of pretending to have manners.
"Chew before you talk," I replied, laughing. "But I'm glad you liked it."
She paused for a second, looked at me seriously… then broke into a huge smile.
"Liked it? This is amazing!"
I sighed, satisfied at hearing that.
We finished eating, and before I could even gather the plates, Saeko was already on her feet.
"I need to go to your workshop. NOW."
"What?" I raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to blow something up?"
"Maybe. But it's a good explosion. Trust me."
She left almost at a run, leaving behind only the hurried sound of her footsteps. I shook my head, calmly stacking the plates. That girl was always bursting with energy.
A few minutes later, I heard the workshop door open again.
"DAD!"
I looked up.
Saeko was standing there, holding a pair of web-shooters. The design was clean, elegant, incredibly functional. These weren't just improvised prototypes—they were perfect.
"I finished them," she said proudly. "They're for Gwen."
I stepped closer, carefully analyzing the work.
"You made these by yourself?"
"Uh-huh. I adjusted the pressure, range, and compatibility with different types of fluid." She smiled. "I want you to give them to her for me."
I held the web-shooters carefully, feeling the precise weight and impeccable balance.
"She's going to love them," I said.
Saeko seemed satisfied with that.
I smiled and, without thinking too much, reached out and gently patted her head. The soft strands slipped between my fingers.
"I'll deliver them. I promise."
She closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the affection, before opening them with a small but genuine smile.
We talked a bit more—about simple, silly things, memories that didn't need to be grand to be important. After that, we went out to the backyard.
"I think it's time," she said suddenly.
I nodded.
She took a few steps, then stopped, as if something had just occurred to her.
"Oh! I almost forgot," she said, turning back to me. "I know about the Tempad."
"…Since when?" I asked, surprised.
"Since always," she replied, far too calm for someone who had just mentioned something she definitely shouldn't know. "And listen carefully, Dad. You must do the test in exactly seven days."
"Seven…?" I murmured.
"Not one more, not one less," she continued. "If you do it outside that window, it could affect the future."
She looked at me seriously… then smiled sweetly, almost childlike.
"Oh, and apologize to Gwen for me. Tell her I didn't say goodbye because…" she shrugged. "I don't know, make something up."
I chuckled softly.
"I will. I promise."
Saeko raised her hand to her wrist, and her watch glowed.
Instantly, a golden portal opened beside her, the air vibrating as if space itself were being gently folded.
She took a step toward it, then turned back one last time.
"Goodbye, Dad."
My chest tightened.
"See you in the future, my daughter."
She smiled, waved… and disappeared into the portal.
The golden glow slowly faded, leaving the backyard in silence.
I let out a long sigh.
"This house is going to be… way too quiet without you," I murmured.
That was when my phone vibrated in my pocket.
And right after that, a familiar voice echoed.
[Arthur.] Cortana. [We have a problem. You need to see this immediately.]
I looked at the screen.
"Damn…" I sighed.
I ran to the garage, got into the car, and started the engine.
"Let's go," I said to myself as I accelerated. "Looks like the world decided not to give me a break today."
And I headed straight for the precinct, with the unsettling feeling that those seven days… had already begun counting down.
---xXx---
"And that's what happened," Arthur said.
"…So why didn't you give me the web-shooters earlier? If I'd had them, maybe I could have restrained Peter," Gwen asked, frowning.
"Very simple—I forgot," Arthur replied, laughing.
"You idiot," Gwen mocked.
(End of the chapter)