Ding-Dong.
Vincent picked up his phone. A new text message.
[We need to talk. - Black Widow]
Vincent ignored it. "Busy. Fishing in the Atlantic."
Ding-Dong.
[Lizard monster attacked New York. 156 civilians dead, including 78 children!]
Natasha was persistent.
Vincent put the phone down.
Lizard monster? Dr. Connors injected himself already?
"Vincent! Come help me!" Gwen shouted from the deck.
Vincent smiled and walked out in his swim trunks.
Gwen emerged from the water, holding a massive lobster in one hand.
"Impressive," Vincent gave her a thumbs up.
She was truly a Spider of the Sea. Diving that deep without gear, ignoring the pressure... only a super-soldier could do it.
He grabbed the lobster with one hand and pulled Gwen up with the other.
Water cascaded off her body. She looked like a goddess emerging from the surf. Vincent stared, mesmerized.
Gwen rolled her eyes. She knew that look.
He's got a stomach full of bad intentions.
She finally understood how he wrote Fifty Shades. The man was... experienced.
Just thinking about last night made her hips ache. Phantom pain, mostly. Her healing factor had already repaired any damage, but the memory lingered.
"This lobster is huge," Vincent said, breaking the tension. "I'll make Lobster Thermidor."
"I hope your cooking lives up to the hype," Gwen challenged.
Suddenly, her phone rang.
"Mom? I'm fine... wait, what? I'll be home in a few hours. Okay. Okay."
Gwen hung up, her face pale.
"What's wrong?" Vincent asked, sensing the shift in her mood.
"A Lizard monster attacked the Manhattan Bridge last night," Gwen said, her voice trembling. "156 people died. 78 were kids on a school bus."
She looked at Vincent, tears welling up.
"My dad... he was on the scene. He's injured."
Vincent dropped the lobster tool. He pulled her into a hug.
"He'll be okay. We're going back."
He headed straight for the helm and turned the yacht around.
No hesitation.
You can mess up New York all you want, Connors. But injuring my future father-in-law? That's personal.
New York. Oscorp Tower.
Natasha Romanoff, having failed to reach Vincent, switched gears.
With Fury's intel, she zeroed in on Dr. Curt Connors. The missing arm was a dead giveaway.
She donned a press badge and headed to Oscorp.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Connors is ill. No interviews," the security guard blocked her.
"Hey there."
A handsome young man with expensive hair and a winning smile walked over.
"I'm Harry Osborn. If you want to know about Oscorp, I can give you a tour."
Harry was a notorious flirt. Seeing the stunning "reporter" at the gate, he couldn't resist.
"Hi, Harry. I'm Natasha, from the New York Times," she said, shaking his hand. "Are you Norman's son?"
"That's me." Harry winked at the guard. "Let her in."
Natasha followed him inside. She charmed him effortlessly, asking questions about the company. But she quickly realized Harry knew nothing. He was just a figurehead sent to calm investors after the death of the VP, Menken (killed by the Lizard).
After an hour, Natasha left.
"What a woman," Harry sighed, watching her walk away.
He walked into the secure lab sector.
He stopped in front of a display case. Inside was a sleek, green battle armor and a glider.
It reminded him of Iron Man.
Harry was envious of Tony Stark. Not just for the wealth, but for the lifestyle. Stark slept with supermodels. Harry just slept with gold diggers.
"The Goblin Armor..." Harry muttered. "Prototype."
The Sewers.
Dr. Connors woke up in the damp darkness.
He reviewed his video log.
He watched himself transform. He watched the monster rage.
Guilt washed over him. But then... a cold, sibilant voice whispered in his mind.
Why feel guilty?
The serum works. The arm grew back.
If everyone was like us... there would be no sickness. No weakness. No amputees.
"William Menken deserved to die," Connors muttered, his eyes dilating. "He pushed me."
"I can create a perfect world," the Lizard persona hissed. "A world without pain. A world of apex predators."
A plan formed in his twisted mind.
He needed to disperse the serum. To evolve the city.
New York Presbyterian Hospital.
Vincent followed Gwen into the hospital room.
Captain George Stacy was sitting up, his arm in a sling, looking grumpy.
When he saw Gwen, his face softened.
But then he saw the man standing behind her.
Vincent Hall.
The man his daughter had spent the weekend with. On a boat. Alone.
George's eyes narrowed into slits of pure, protective rage.
He forgot about the Lizard. He forgot about his injury.
All he knew was that this boy had "defiled" his little girl.
Gwen rushed to hug him, oblivious to the murder in her father's eyes.
"Dad! Are you okay?"
Vincent stood in the doorway, feeling the heat of the glare.
Great, Vincent thought. The Lizard didn't kill him, but I might die right here.
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