Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Birth of the Green Demon

Watching Gwen walk away, Michael finally let out a breath he’d been holding.

Keisha said, “Actually, she’s been here for a while.”

“I know. She just didn’t want to embarrass me.”

Keisha continued, “You need to learn to be yourself, Michael. You’re afraid.”

“I know. I feel unsettled right now, both eager and terrified I’ll make an irreversible mistake. Especially after waiting so long, with success right before my eyes, it’s hard to stay calm.”

“I mean, you’re afraid of Gwen.”

Michael fell silent.

“I’m not. Why would I be afraid of her?”

Keisha pressed on, “You sounded pretty heartless just now, but you’re really just afraid she’ll get hurt, aren’t you?”

Michael sighed inwardly. Please, have mercy on me. Life is hard enough without you picking at old wounds.

“I'm going to bed.”

In Queens, at the Parker house—

Peter sat on the rooftop, gazing quietly at the night sky.

After everything that had happened, things had ended up this way—not by his choice. But he knew Dr. Connors’s mutation had something to do with him.

He finally understood the terrifying discovery his father had made, the reason he’d been forced into hiding.

Tragedy had already unfolded, and Peter was powerless to undo it.

Sometimes he thought, If only I were Spider-Man. But now he realized he was far from worthy.

Gwen had left Michael’s house feeling wretched.

Passing through Queens, she happened to spot Peter Parker.

“Hey, Parker.”

Peter, seeing Spider-Man, immediately jumped up in excitement.

“Hey, I’m Peter Parker.”

“You look troubled. Why?” Gwen asked, curious.

Peter stumbled over his words and almost fell off the roof, but Gwen caught him just in time.

“I want to be like you, but I don’t have the ability.”

“What do you think of me?” Gwen asked.

“You’re awesome.”

“Just awesome?” Gwen tilted her head. If everything she’d done was just ‘awesome’ in others’ eyes, what meaning did it have?

“No... I mean, you’re truly great. At least in this city, you stepped up. Crime rates have clearly dropped this month.”

“What if your family forbade you?” Gwen pressed.

Peter thought for a moment, then answered, “I’d persuade them. If you have the power to stop something and do nothing, just watching as it happens, how are you any different from those committing the crime?”

“Sorry, I mean... with great power comes great responsibility.”

“I understand.” Gwen shot out a web and quickly vanished from Peter’s sight.

“Is it you, Gwen?” Peter’s eyes reflected a hint of loss. He and Gwen were destined for different worlds—besides, he already had Mary Jane.

…

Oscorp Tower.

Norman sat in his office, frustrated. The super-serum technology was already mature, but now no one wanted it.

The reason was simple: why create a soldier with free will who might turn rogue, when you could have a suit of armor anyone could use?

If you made super soldiers, both the power and autonomy belonged to the soldier, forcing the general to rely on them.

But a suit that anyone could wear kept the ultimate authority with the general. Soldiers could be swapped out at will, but there was always only one general.

Norman’s super-armor had been designed to complement super-soldiers, focusing on defense and close combat, with few long-range weapons.

And lacking an anti-gravity system, the suit couldn’t fly—it had to rely on glider wings, making it far less agile than Tony Stark’s armor.

Compared to Tony’s flying, laser-firing suit, Norman’s armor and glider were utterly inferior.

So the military mocked him, saying his inventions were worthless next to Tony Stark’s. Norman was furious.

The military decisively rejected his product and walked away.

They had another plan: to target Tony himself and force him to hand over his suit.

“Damn it.”

It was one thing to lose to Howard; now he’d been bested by Tony too. Norman simply couldn’t accept this outcome.

After smashing up his office, Norman’s rage turned to his reinforced armor. He was determined to prove himself, to show them that his inventions were anything but garbage.

He entered the super-serum lab, activated the machinery, and climbed inside.

A cloud of blue-green vapor engulfed him. When it cleared, Norman emerged, naked and transformed.

“What incredible power.”

He effortlessly lifted a lab table, marveling at his strength.

“A remarkable invention—it’s just a shame they can’t recognize its value.”

Norman moved to the suit lab. He’d spent so long perfecting it, but without miniature arc reactor tech or anti-gravity propulsion, his suit could never match Iron Man’s.

Still, for defense, he’d used a special steel that made the inside as soft as cloth—far more comfortable than Iron Man’s armor.

Norman donned the suit, fashioned himself a mask, then mounted his glider, laughter echoing as he took off.

“Hahahaha—”

Soon, a green blur appeared in the busy downtown streets, raining destruction with pumpkin bombs.

Disappointingly, no superheroes showed up that day. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was missing, and Iron Man didn’t arrive in time.

Early the next morning, George hurried out to the police station without even eating.

“What happened?” Helen asked, curious.

“A new super-criminal showed up yesterday—calls himself the Green Goblin. Flew over the city on a glider, dropped bombs everywhere, caused a ton of damage.”

As he opened the door, something occurred to him. George turned to Gwen.

“Gwen, get to school on time. I don’t want to hear you’re skipping classes. You’re about to graduate—your teachers’ recommendations are important.”

With that, George left.

Helen looked at Gwen, puzzled. “You skipped class? How come I didn’t know?”

Gwen replied awkwardly, “Yes, I had some personal matters to take care of. Sorry, Mom, it won’t happen again.”

“What personal matters?” Before Gwen could answer, Mrs. Stacy added, “Are you dating someone? Who is it? Is it Michael?”

Gwen was even more embarrassed.

How should she explain? She glanced at her two younger brothers, who looked more entertained than ever—what was with those eager faces?

Recalling Michael’s awkwardness the previous day, Gwen couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, it’s Michael.”

She planned to win George over first, then talk to Helen. With George’s support, convincing Helen would be easier.

For now, Michael would have to be her shield.

“Oh my, I knew it. You’ve never brought a boy home before.”

Mrs. Stacy was at a loss but had a good impression of Michael.

“How far have you two gone? Have you slept together? Oh, what am I even asking?”

Gwen hurriedly finished her bread, grabbed her backpack, and rushed out the door.

“We’ve just held hands, that’s all. Michael is very innocent.”

“See you tonight, Mom.”

Watching Gwen flee, Helen sighed.

“None of you make life easy.”

She turned to her two sons. “Finish your milk—no leftovers.”

“Okay.”

Collateral damage, they thought, as they obediently drank their milk.