Norman Osborn received two unwelcome guests in his office that day.
The spacious hall at the top of Oscorp was silent, illuminated by the ceiling lights.
Standing before the polished dark-wood desk were George Stacy and Dr. Curt Connors.
Norman listened attentively to the reason for their visit without interrupting even once. His fingers were interlaced atop the desk, his expression calm—almost kind. When George finished speaking, Osborn let out a slow sigh, as if carrying a heavy burden.
"Captain Stacy…" he finally said, opening an elegant lacquered wooden box. "Would you care for a cigar? A Hoyo de Monterrey Double Corona. It arrived from Cuba recently."
The aroma of fine tobacco spread through the air.
George did not even glance at the cigar.
"I appreciate the offer, but I don't smoke," he replied firmly. "Let's get straight to the point, Mr. Osborn."
Norman closed the box carefully, maintaining his polite smile.
"Our goal is to save Peter," George continued bluntly. "We hope you will agree to help us."
Norman leaned forward slightly.
"Of course, Captain Stacy," he replied with practiced calm. "Personally, I would be very happy to help."
At those words, Curt Connors felt his heart race. His shoulders relaxed, and for a brief moment, his eyes shone with hope.
Norman Osborn had agreed.
Or at least… it seemed that way.
George, on the other hand, felt the weight of those words sink into his stomach. His expression darkened almost imperceptibly.
He was no fool.
He had dealt with politicians, businessmen, and powerful figures for far too many years not to recognize that tone. He knew when someone said "yes" while meaning "no."
And there was something deeply wrong with that response.
Osborn himself noticed Connors's excessive excitement and raised a hand, stopping him before he could say anything.
"Dr. Connors… don't be so happy just yet."
Connors froze.
"Believe me," Norman continued, now with a more serious tone. "I truly would like to help Peter. I've met him personally. I know he's an exceptionally intelligent young man with a promising future."
Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair.
"But you need to understand something important: Oscorp does not belong to me alone. Decisions of this magnitude must be discussed and approved by the board of directors."
As he spoke, his eyes deliberately shifted to George.
"And the impact of this incident… has been extremely negative for the company."
The meaning was crystal clear.
Norman suspected that the police had leaked information.
"I don't know how the media got access to that data," George said. "The police had those records very well secured."
"I believe you, Captain Stacy," Norman added, maintaining his smile. "But a precinct is a large place. Perhaps even you can't control everyone inside it."
Silence fell heavily over the office.
George knew the conversation was over.
Norman Osborn was an extremely shrewd man.
He had refused the request without ever using the word "no."
An elegant refusal—impossible to challenge.
Only Connors, consumed by his scientific obsession and utterly inexperienced in this kind of power game, had not fully realized it yet.
"Dr. Connors," Norman continued, shifting his focus. "You know Oscorp has invested an enormous amount in your research."
"The board wanted to cut that funding a long time ago," he went on. "I was the one who always insisted it shouldn't happen. Because of that, I've been under tremendous pressure."
Connors's eyes widened.
"Now," Norman said, spreading his hands, "the board has frozen all of your research materials."
His voice took on an offended tone.
"If I were to go to the board for you right now…" he paused. "I would be putting my own position at risk."
"Dr. Connors," he finished with false empathy, "I know you're in a hurry, but don't make things more difficult for me. I've done everything within my power. You can't blame me for what happened."
"Norman, you—" Connors began, but stopped himself.
Even without fully understanding that world of power and manipulation, the hidden meaning had finally become clear to him.
Norman was using his position to refuse the request.
Sensing Connors's rising agitation, Norman calmly turned to George.
"Captain Stacy, could you please take Dr. Connors back? He is clearly not in an emotional state suitable for continuing this conversation."
Connors had been completely manipulated.
George took a deep breath.
"Excuse us, Mr. Norman Osborn."
Without another word, he turned and left the office, taking Connors with him.
The door to Norman Osborn's office closed with a soft click.
Alone again, Norman remained still for a few seconds, staring at the door as if he could still see the silhouettes of the two men on the other side.
Then, slowly, the polite smile vanished.
In its place appeared something far colder.
"That serum…" he murmured.
He rose from his chair and walked to the glass wall, from where he could see New York stretching out below him. Millions of people, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
"I have excellent uses for it," he continued, his eyes shining with ambition. "How could I possibly hand it over so easily?"
To Norman Osborn, that possibility had never existed.
It was impossible for Connors to ever gain access to that serum again.
Impossible… and unnecessary.
Norman had already read all the experimental data—every report, every partial result, every failure and every success. He understood perfectly the potential hidden within Connors's research—perhaps even better than the scientist himself.
And more importantly, he knew how to exploit it.
That serum would be extremely useful for his own experiments.
Which only made it even more inconceivable to allow Connors to get his hands on that material again.
To Norman, Curt Connors had fulfilled his role.
---xXx---
Outside the office, the contrast was brutal.
As soon as they entered the elevator, Connors looked like a hollow man. His shoulders sagged, his gaze unfocused, as if something essential had been torn out of him in that office.
"I'm sorry…" he finally said, his voice weak. "I really thought Norman Osborn would help us."
George remained silent, allowing him to speak.
Norman and Connors had known each other for years.
Connors vividly remembered their first meeting: a scientific seminar, years ago. He had spoken passionately about his ideas, his research, his dreams of revolutionizing medicine—of restoring lost limbs, of changing lives.
Norman Osborn had been in the audience.
He had smiled, applauded, asked questions.
Not long after, the investment came.
Since then, Connors had always seen Norman as his benefactor—the man who believed in him when no one else did.
Now, that image was shattered.
"I was wrong," Connors murmured. "What he never saw was the future of humanity…"
Connors closed his eyes for a moment.
"It was only profit."
George placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light pat—a simple but honest gesture.
"It's not your fault," he said. "I didn't expect him to be so… careful with his words either."
The elevator reached the ground floor.
"You can head back first," George added. "I'll take care of the rest."
Outside the building, at Oscorp's main gate, George called over two of the officers accompanying him.
"Take Dr. Connors back. Until all this is resolved, he'll remain under surveillance."
Connors didn't protest.
He simply nodded, still lost in thought, before being escorted away.
George watched until they disappeared from sight.
Then he turned and returned to his own car.
---xXx---
"Captain, should we head back now?" one of the officers at the wheel asked.
George looked out the window.
Oscorp loomed before them like a modern fortress. Something about it deeply unsettled him.
He shook his head.
"No. I have a bad feeling."
"We'll stay here and observe for a while."
The officer in the back seat raised an eyebrow.
"Are we… spying on Oscorp?"
One of the more experienced agents immediately understood.
"Captain, do you think there's something wrong with the company?"
George nodded slowly.
"It's just intuition. I don't know if I'm right or not…"
He took a deep breath.
"Either way, we'll stay a bit longer. There's nothing urgent demanding my attention right now."
As he watched the building, George tried to pinpoint exactly what was bothering him.
He couldn't—but he was absolutely certain of one thing:
There was something wrong with Oscorp.
Inside the car, George took out his phone and typed a quick message to Gwen and Helen, letting them know he wouldn't be back for dinner that night.
---xXx---
In the city.
Between skyscrapers, Spider-Woman swung gracefully through the city that never sleeps, the wind cutting against her suit as she crossed New York like a white-and-pink ghost.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She latched onto a wall, took out the device, and read the message.
It was from George.
Without hesitation, she replied that she also wouldn't be coming back that night.
"As always… things are way too quiet today," she murmured to herself, firing another web.
Her gaze shifted toward a specific direction.
Oscorp.
"I need to deal with this as soon as possible."
And then she vanished between the buildings.
---xXx---
At the same time.
The door to Tony Stark's laboratory finally opened after hours of nonstop work.
Tony stumbled out, dark circles under his eyes and his shirt wrinkled, running a hand through his hair as if trying to remember the last time he had slept.
"JARVIS…" he muttered. "I need sleep."
He hadn't rested for a single second all day or night.
[Welcome back, sir.]
[I have prepared your bedroom. I hope you have an excellent night's rest.]
Tony walked through the hall where his armors stood lined up, one after another.
Something felt… wrong.
"I must be on the verge of a nervous breakdown," he thought, rubbing his eyes.
Then he stopped abruptly.
His gaze fixed on an empty display stand.
"…Why isn't the Mark II there?"
(End of Chapter)
Author's Note:
The first chapters of the Fairy Tail arc will be a bit weak, so I plan to post at least five chapters at once. I drafted them with my ideas, but somehow they always end up feeling underwhelming.
Here are some of the situations I've planned:
Arthur was trained by a dragon and learned Ice Dragon Slayer Magic 400 years ago. He was sent to the future through the Eclipse Gate along with the other Dragon Slayers. How this happened will be better explained in the final chapter of that extra arc about the alternate Arthur's life.
He will be without his memories in the first chapters of the story, where he will eventually awaken them and gain full access to his powers, including our beloved EA.
Obviously, this will be a harem, and I'm thinking about how to develop it in an interesting way. I'm deciding who will come first—Erza or Mirajane.
Due to future plans, I will not change certain elements of the original story, such as Lisanna's "death".