Chapter 113 - 94 –New Arc?
Oscorp Headquarters
125/135 E. 57th Street
Midtown, Manhattan
New York City
"Norman!!!!!!!" Vond Finch stord into Norman Osborn's office, his face contorted with anger and frustration.
Norman Osborn looked up from his desk, his expression cold and calculated. "I told you, Vond Finch, that this is just business. Don't bla this on ."
Vond Finch's face reddened with fury as he clenched his fists. "Yo-u!!!, You stole my work, Norman! I poured my heart and soul into those inventions, and you took all the credit!"
"Your work?" Norman retorted, his voice dripping with cold disdain. He leaned back in his chair, fixing Vond Finch with a steely gaze. "You use my money? My resources? And now you have the audacity to claim that this is your work?"
Norman's face remained stoic, his voice cool and collected as he pressed on."Let
tell you sothing, Vond. Do you honestly believe you could invent anything without my resources? Without my money? Your so-called 'work' is nothing without Oscorp backing it. It's all been mine from the beginning. Without my resources, you couldn't build anything."
Vond Finch clenched his fists, his anger boiling over. "You promised
so recognition!!!!, but all you've done is steal my inventions and take credit for them!"
Norman smirked, unfazed by Vond's outburst. "Recognition? Please, Vond. Since when did i say that. And also you should be grateful for the opportunity I've given you."
Vond's eyes widened in disbelief. "Opportunity?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. Then, Vond took a step forward, he locked eyes with Norman, tears welling up from a mix of anger and betrayal. And his voice trembling with fury as he declared, "I won't let you get away with this, Norman."
Vond was furious, but deep down, he couldn't deny the truth in Norman's words. Without Oscorp's help, his inventions wouldn't have gotten anywhere. With a grunt of frustration, he turned on his heel and stord out of Norman's office, vowing to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his.
.........
[anwhile Michael Wilson]
"Are you ready, Pete?" I asked as I held the cara, getting ready to record him for his project. Peter nodded eagerly, adjusting his glasses with a determined look in his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm ready, Michael," he replied, a hint of excitent in his voice. "Thanks for helping
out with this. I couldn't have done this things without you."
I grinned, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "You're Welco, Pete."
I continued speaking to Peter, saying, "Alright, let's get started. Just let
know when you're ready." my voice calm and encouraging, ready to support Peter every step of the way.
Peter straightened his posture, a sense of determination shining in his eyes as he nodded confidently. "I'm ready, Michael," he affird, his voice steady with resolve.
"Okay, let's begin in 3, 2, 1," I announced, my finger ready to start the recording. With a surge of excitent, I pressed the button, and the cara sprang to life.
Then Peter took a deep breath, getting ready to start his presentation right there on the busy streets of New York City. I moved the cara around, making sure we got everything on video as he talked about his project with the city's noisy hustle and bustle in the background.
..............
After we finished filming, Peter and I found a quiet spot on the sidewalk to rest for a bit. We were both a bit tired but happy with how things went. We wanted to relax and take it easy after all the excitent. It felt good to just sit and breathe for a while.
"Here, Pete, catch," I said, grabbing a cold soda from the cooler next to . I tossed it gently to Peter.
Peter's eyes widened with surprise as he caught the soda, and a big smile spread across his face. "Thanks, Michael!" he said excitedly. He quickly opened the can, his youthful energy showing as he took a sip. "This is great!" he added, clearly enjoying the drink.
I smiled, enjoying the simple joy on Peter's face. "No problem, Pete," I replied, taking a seat beside him on the sidewalk. "Gotta stay hydrated, especially after all that filming."
Peter nodded and then took a big gulp of his soda and let out a happy sigh. "This drink is so good," he said, sounding really excited. "Once again Thanks for helping
with my project , Michael."
I chuckled, ruffling his hair playfully. "Anyti, Pete. We make a pretty good team, don't we?"
Peter nodded eagerly, his eyes bright with excitent. "Definitely! And if you ever need a hand with anything, just say the word. I've got your back," he said with a friendly smile.
Sitting there with Peter, sipping our drinks, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry for his future. He was just a kid, full of innocence and excitent, and it hurt to think about the challenges he'd face as Spider-Man. The idea of him dealing with all the dangers and difficulties in the near future, weighed on my mind. It reminded
of his comics backstory.
anwhile, Peter was happily chatting about his project, completely unaware of the tough road ahead. He was so excited and carefree, not knowing the struggles he'd have to endure. That's why, now that I've beco Spider-Man, I'll make sure to teach him and stand by him when life gets tough. It was a silent vow I made to myself back then, I wanted to support Peter through whatever challenges ca his way.
..............
[anwhile Chris side]
Chris Hilton frowned deeply as he examined the new invention Norman Osborn had created. It was a gun that shot lasers, much stronger than regular guns. Chris didn't like it at all. He thought Norman was a bad person, and seeing this gun just made him dislike him even more.
"Tsk, to think Osborn has these new inventions," Chris muttered under his breath, his voice laced with contempt. To him, Norman Osborn represented everything he despised: greed, manipulation, and a thirst for power that knew no bounds.
As Chris examined the gun, he felt both confused and uneasy. There was sothing off about it, and he couldn't shake the feeling that Osborn was involved in sothing shady. With a determined expression, Chris realized he couldn't ignore what he had seen. He needed to stay vigilant and keep an eye on Osborn, ready to take action if his suspicions turned out to be correct.
[Loe Halloway side]
anwhile in S.H.I.E.L.D HQ
Thomas Halloway stood confidently in front of Director Loe Halloway, his father, at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. He felt the pressure of his family history as he took on the role of the Angel, a vigilante persona passed down through generations.
"Mr. Director," Thomas spoke respectfully, giving a little nod to show he was serious. "I've been keeping a close eye on what's happening in New York's neighborhoods. And let
tell you, yesterday Nightwing and I have been on patrol, and we've noticed sothing."
Director Halloway's expression turned grave as he listened intently to his son's words. He recognized the gravity of the situation and understood the weight of responsibility resting on Thomas's shoulders as the new Angel. Despite his pride in Thomas's abilities and commitnt to justice, he also understood the dangers that ca with the vigilante lifestyle.
"What kind of trouble are we facing, Thomas?" Director Halloway inquired, his tone serious as he prepared to address the potential threats looming over the city.
Thomas leaned forward, his eyes reflecting the weight of his responsibility. "It seems like it's related to a vampire."
Director Loe Halloway's brows furrowed in concern at Thomas's revelation. The ntion of a vampire threat raised the stakes considerably, adding a supernatural elent to the already complex landscape of cri and danger in New York City.
"A vampire?" Director Halloway repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Are you certain, Thomas? This isn't so kind of Halloween prank?"
Thomas shook his head, his expression grave. "I wish things were less complicated, Dad. But when Nightwing and I investigated, we found so disturbing evidence. The victims had bite marks on their necks, and their blood was completely drained. It's exactly what you'd expect from a vampire attack."
Director Halloway's jaw clenched with determination as he processed the information. "We can't ignore this, Thomas. If there's a vampire lurking in our city, preying on innocent people, we need to take action imdiately. Tell Nightwing and his girlfriend, Lady Vamp, to investigate this case. Especially Nightwing's girlfriend, considering she's half vampire and half human."
Thomas nodded, his resolve matching his father's. "Understood, Director. I'll relay the ssage to Nightwing and Lady Vamp right away.
With a determined nod from Director Halloway, Thomas swiftly left the office, his mind buzzing with plans and strategies to deal with the vampire danger.
[anwhile on the other side]
After Leaving Norman Osborn's office, Vond Finch felt consud by one overwhelming desire: payback. He couldn't shake off the mories of all the ways Osborn had wronged him, from the smallest insults to the biggest betrayals. Each one fueled Vond's determination to get even.
Returning to his dimly lit basent laboratory,ond Finch's fingers moved with practiced precision, navigating the controls of his latest creation. Each button press and dial adjustnt brought him closer to finishing his masterpiece, a chanical thing crafted with one purpose: revenge against Osborn.
you could feel his intense focus as he added piece after piece to the machine. Each part seed to carry the weight of his anger towards Osborn, pushing him to keep going until he finished. The air felt heavy with his determination to make his plan work.
With an evil laugh, Vond Finch looked at his new invention in his basent lab. It was the Monkey King, a big robot he made to wreak havoc on Norman Osborn's empire
"Almost done," Vond muttered to himself, his voice tinged with anticipation and malice. "Get ready, Norman. The Monkey King is coming for you."
[The Start of The Monkey King Arc]
To be continued
Reviews
All reviews (0)