"There's risk in this kind of experiment," Professor Warren said.
"Every experiment carries risk," Professor Morbius replied as he pulverized the internal organs of a vampire bat, dumped the mush into a centrifuge, and glanced at Warren.
Max Dillon's brow twitched almost imperceptibly. He hadn't even finished his regular work when Harry Osborn dragged him here. Right now all he wanted was to get this over with—or better yet, slip out early.
"Professors, it looks like you don't really need me here. How about I—"
"No. I do need you." Morbius turned to Max Dillon. "The follow-up treatment is still electroshock therapy… only this time we're adding a few new ingredients."
Max Dillon felt his stomach lurch. He had just watched Morbius separate fluid from the bat's viscera, pour it into a centrifuge tube, and then inject it straight into his own bloodstream.
He couldn't understand what these mad scientists were trying to accomplish. Something about curing an illness, apparently.
But none of that mattered to him. Today was his daughter's birthday. All Max Dillon wanted was to wrap this up fast, stop at the bakery on the way home for the cake she'd been begging for forever, and have a happy family dinner.
"Fine. I'll cooperate fully," he said. What he thought in his heart was one thing; outwardly, Max Dillon obediently began adjusting the equipment beside the insulated chair.
He'd operated these machines countless times lately. He could do it blindfolded and not miss a step.
Still, to be safe, he double-checked every connection and setting. Only after confirming there were no hazards did he motion for Morbius to sit.
"Experiment #76 log. Subject: Michael Morbius…"
Harry Osborn recorded the data from the side while Professor Warren helped attach the various electrodes and pads needed for the shock treatment.
Max Dillon flipped the switch. A low, controlled current began flowing through Professor Morbius's body.
A current deemed safe for human physiology is not, by any stretch, comfortable. Morbius's body jerked with every pulse.
In previous sessions, the spasms would gradually lessen; that was the signal the procedure was entering the danger zone, and treatment would be halted.
This time was different. The convulsions didn't weaken; they intensified. His entire body twisted grotesquely.
The insulated chair was equipped with restraints to keep Morbius from thrashing into equipment or dislodging the electrodes.
Normal people couldn't break those straps. That was precisely why someone always had to stay close during Morbius's treatments.
Yet as the spasms grew more violent, the restraints actually began to rip with audible tearing sounds.
Before Harry or Professor Warren could react, one of Morbius's arms tore free. The sudden overexertion sent that arm whipping across Max Dillon's body.
SMACK!
Max staggered from the unexpected blow. His hands jerked on the controls. He looked up, furious.
"Professor, what the hell are you doing?" Anger bled into Max Dillon's voice as he reached to shut the system down.
It was mostly just a reflexive complaint about being hit; he didn't truly blame Morbius.
But the instant his attention locked on the console, an ice-cold hand clamped around Max Dillon's throat.
"Morbius! What are you doing?!" Professor Warren realized something was horribly wrong and lunged forward to pull him off.
CRASH!
Morbius had already straightened up in the chair. Long hair hung over his face, hiding his expression as he effortlessly hurled Max Dillon through the air.
Amid crackling sparks, Max Dillon smashed through a bank of active electrical equipment. Metal tore, skin split, blood sprayed.
"Shit—!"
The thought flashed through Harry Osborn's mind. He dashed after the airborne electrician. Max's clothes were charred; his skin was blackened and blistered where live current from the wrecked machines had seared him. He was already unconscious, breathing shallow.
"Professor Warren! Help me lift Max!"
Warren didn't answer. Harry looked over in confusion and then in horror and rage.
"Morbius! Have you lost your mind?!"
Professor Morbius had buried his face in Warren's neck and bitten down.
Warren didn't even cry out. His limbs went limp and dropped.
Harry didn't have time to think. He scanned the lab, spotted a fire extinguisher in the corner, snatched it up, and swung it like a baseball bat into Morbius's back with all his strength.
HSSSSSS!
A chilling hiss issued from Morbius's mouth. Harry gripped the extinguisher tight, watching as Morbius slowly raised his head.
What looked back at him was a gaunt, gray-black face with almost no muscle left—just skin stretched tight over bone.
Then that face lunged. A maw full of jagged fangs clamped onto Harry's neck.
"Dr. Banner… I've been looking forward to this day for a very long time."
"The knowledge I can gain from books pales in comparison to the speed at which I devour understanding. Ever since I learned of Batman from General Ross and deduced that the man beneath the mask was you… I have hungered to enter your mind."
"With your brain, and then this perfect body of yours… you will allow me to evolve once more…"
Leader's murmurs echoed in Batman's ears. The next instant, the scene before Batman's eyes shifted.
He was no longer in the underground plaza of the gamma base. Instead he stood in a vast, blinding white void. Leader stood before him, hands clasped behind his back, a smile on his swollen cranium.
The smile didn't last.
Even here, inside the mental landscape, the figure before him was not Bruce Banner. It was still the black-caped silhouette with sharp, pointed ears—Batman.
"Where is the knowledge? I want the knowledge! Why is your mind… blank?!"
Leader frantically pushed his psychic powers to their limit, trying to read Batman's memories. Nothing. The Dark Knight's psyche was a still, depthless pond that yielded no reflection, no information.
"This… this isn't right…"
Leader's breathing grew ragged. He stared fixedly at Batman.
"What exactly are you? Human… or something else?"
"Whatever you are, you are not Bruce Banner. All my previous deductions were wrong!"
Batman's expression never changed. Even Martian Manhunter's telepathy couldn't pierce his mind, let alone this Leader whose limits he had already tested.
To Leader's frantic questions, Batman gave only one answer:
"I am Batman."
The next moment, Leader was forcibly ejected from Batman's mind. He remained standing beside the gamma device in the real world, perfectly unharmed—yet his face now carried deep shock and confusion.
And beneath that shock and confusion burned an even stronger, almost obsessive interest in the man before him.
At the same instant, a roar of displaced air tore through the chamber. While Leader had been inside Batman's mind, the Red Hulk in the physical world had charged—barreling straight toward Batman's face with earth-shattering force.
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