"I was just discussing his condition with Professor Morbius."
Harry Osborn didn't want something as private as Morbius's own illness being aired in public, so he lowered his voice when speaking to Batman.
Batman gave a slight nod, entirely unsurprised. He had already compiled a complete dossier on the man the first time they met.
In fact, back on the island, in the Batcave he was preparing, the medical wing already included plans to study this particular blood disorder.
It wasn't that Batman was doing it specifically for Morbius's sake. He had simply never encountered this hematological disease in his original world.
He didn't like anything existing outside his control—even a disease.
Given the precedent of Lex Luthor once creating the Amazo virus, Batman had quite naturally slotted Professor Morbius's blood condition into his own contingency planning.
He was especially mindful of not repeating the last incident, where failing to give Doctor Octavius advance warning had driven Otto to desperation, donning the tentacles and vanishing into the sewers.
After a brief greeting and a few meaningless pleasantries, Batman steered the conversation, almost imperceptibly, toward Morbius's illness.
"I've reviewed the publicly available literature. For this disease, mainstream medicine only offers palliation and maintenance. That's a road with a visible end. With your intellect, you would never be content to walk it quietly to the finish line."
Professor Morbius looked deeply at Batman, then nodded without a word.
The truth was that mainstream medicine had never been able to help him at all. Nearly all the research and papers on his blood disorder had come from Morbius experimenting on himself, alone.
Batman didn't want to return from New Mexico only to find Oscorp plunged into yet another crisis. Before leaving, he had to steady Morbius's state of mind.
"So let's change our perspective. Stop treating it as a terminal illness. Treat it as a project… an unprecedented, extraordinarily challenging research-and-development project."
Batman did his best to offer the man hope, but with Peter Parker's identity constraining him, there were many things he couldn't say outright. He couldn't even knock Morbius out and lock him up on the island.
The New Mexico trip might take one or two days, or it might take ten days to half a month.
Too many unknowns. Besides, the island was still under construction; the secure containment wing and stasis pods weren't ready yet. Venom-Robin couldn't supervise Morbius on his own, either.
Morbius was sick, not a criminal. Batman no longer resorted to preemptively imprisoning people simply because he feared what they might do.
Moreover, the so-called "danger" was nothing more than Batman's own assumption. He had no proof this world would inevitably spiral into tragedy the way Gotham always did.
He would not repeat the same mistake as that lordly Superman in the white cape.
"A research project?"
Even the habitually taciturn Professor Morbius couldn't help speaking up at that.
There was something melancholic and poetic about his bearing; when he opened his mouth, the resemblance only grew stronger.
If he hadn't fallen ill, and if this were the fifteenth century, Morbius might well have become a wandering troubadour.
"Yes. As you can see, I'm a businessman." Batman maintained the Peter Parker persona without missing a beat. "If Parker Industries wants to expand, we have to offer something no one else can."
"My plan is to enter the medical field by starting with your blood disorder. I will build you an independent, top-spec laboratory and spare no effort to conquer and understand this disease."
"That way, Parker Industries can make a spectacular debut in the medical sector."
Harry Osborn's eyes went wide, his mouth half-open, at a complete loss for words.
Harry knew better than anyone how impossible it was to treat Professor Morbius's condition.
On one side was a scientist employed by his own company; Harry couldn't reject Peter to his face.
On the other side was his best friend potentially pouring astronomical sums into research.
Caught in the middle, Harry looked pleadingly at Batman, trying to signal with his eyes that his friend should drop this absurd idea.
But Batman said nothing. It was Professor Morbius who spoke first.
"I've already done all of that."
His very first sentence shot down Batman's proposal, and he continued to explain.
"In order to cure my illness, I once gathered the most brilliant minds from several countries. In the end, all I achieved was bankruptcy. Nothing else."
If he hadn't gone bankrupt, Professor Morbius would have had his own laboratory, his own company, instead of needing Professor Miles Warren's introduction to join Oscorp.
"I'm not questioning your capabilities, Professor," Batman replied, not the least bit upset by the refusal. If anything, he was quietly relieved that after trying so many methods, the man was still sane and not some freak like Mr. Freeze.
"Mr. Freeze is just a pitiful man who wanted to save his wife. Maybe in this world I can find a cure for him. When I get back to Gotham, perhaps I can help him," Batman thought silently.
Morbius lowered his head again into silence—he had long grown accustomed to saying nothing and letting the people around him argue passionately.
Batman was indeed carrying on a discussion right now, only no one else was responding.
"Professor Morbius, you once assembled a group of brilliant minds, but every one of them only brought a single puzzle piece from their own field, and each was obsessed with making their own piece as large and eye-catching as possible."
"The result was a crowd of geniuses bickering over an incomplete blueprint, ultimately building a lighthouse that couldn't shine."
Morbius's head snapped up. He didn't know whether this young man calling himself Peter Parker was guessing or had actually investigated, but either way, Peter had just perfectly described what happened when Morbius had gathered those scientists to conquer his illness.
Almost every day, every single moment, those researchers had tried to extract something from his blood disorder they could turn into a paper, something to gild their résumés.
They had long since been corrupted by the politics of publication and patent wars.
Amid their endless quarrels and infighting, Morbius's original laboratory had shut its doors, and he had fallen into years of near-total silence—until now.
"What exactly are you trying to say?" Morbius leaned forward, impatience creeping into his voice.
Batman allowed a faint smile to touch the muscles of his face. He knew that, at least for the duration of his trip to New Mexico, he no longer needed to worry about Professor Morbius.
"What Parker Industries offers is an absolutely pure research environment. No board of directors breathing down your neck for results. No peer review second-guessing your direction. You answer to no one but yourself."
"Professor Morbius—for once, forget about treatment. Forget about the disease."
"Treat it as an unsolved mystery. Pour your despair and my resources into researching it. Either we publish a paper that turns the world upside down together… or we fail together."
"Are you willing to try one more completely different kind of failure?"
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