[Ravencroft ntal Hospital. A man dressed in black, wearing a wide-brimd hat, walked through the dimly lit corridors under the guidance of the staff.]
[With a chanical hum, the steel door before him slid open, revealing the confined figure of Harry Osborn.]
["Get out," the man ordered in a calm but commanding voice. Without hesitation, the staff mber obeyed, stepping outside and securing the door behind him.]
[Harry, seated in front of a mirror, smirked at his reflection. "You've finally made so progress," he mused, his voice laced with amusent. The scars on his face had almost faded, evidence that the aftereffects of the spider venom were subsiding.]
[The man, Gustav Fiers, remained shrouded in darkness, his features completely concealed.]
["I've screened a few good candidates," Gustav said smoothly. "With Spider-Man gone, this city is going to change."]
["Just as I expected," Harry replied, raising an eyebrow.]
["Speaking of change—you're looking much better," Gustav observed, his gaze settling on Harry's face.]
["Good or bad, that remains to be seen," Harry said nonchalantly. "Keep talking."]
["How many candidates did you choose?"]
["Not too many. Everything we need is right here in Oscorp Industries," Harry smirked, granting Gustav unrestricted access to the company's resources.]
["Who's the first volunteer?" Harry inquired.]
["Alexei Sisevich. Life sentence. Still serving ti. He's eager to join."]
[Harry's smirk widened. "Good. Let's start with him."]
[With Harry's authorization, Gustav Fiers entered Oscorp Industries unimpeded. As the AI security system confird his clearance, a chanical voice welcod him: "Access granted. Welco, Mr. Fiers."]
[Inside Oscorp's Special Projects division—the forr storage site for spider venom—rows of containnt units and experintal equipnt lined the walls. Gustav strode past a collection of sinister artifacts: Doctor Octopus' chanical tentacles, the Vulture's wings, a suit of Rhino armor… and more.]
"Fiers…?" Dr. Connors muttered, his brow furrowed. The na stirred sothing in his mory. He had heard it before.
After a mont of thought, he rembered.
Without hesitation, Connors called Peter, relaying everything he knew about Gustav Fiers.
anwhile, Harry also recalled his own brief encounter with Fiers—though, at the ti, he hadn't realized who he was dealing with.
Gustav Fiers, however, was no fool. He knew the risk of exposure. His na alone was a dangerous clue. If Harry pieced things together, it wouldn't be long before others did as well.
Still, he was confident. Without concrete evidence, even Peter Parker—Spider-Man—couldn't act against him.
Peter first received the call from Connors. Then, unexpectedly, one from Harry.
For Harry, Fiers wasn't as significant as the fragile truce he had with Peter. Their history mattered more than a fleeting connection to a shady figure.
So, Harry disclosed everything he knew to Peter. However, thanks to The Screen's intervention, Gustav Fiers was far more subtle than his counterpart in the original tiline. Very few people knew his true identity.
But this anonymity wouldn't last forever.
The mont Fiers slipped up—even slightly—he would be exposed. With the obsessive nature of Spider-Man fans and the rapid spread of information, it was only a matter of days before the truth ca to light.
At the sa ti, George Stacy began using his police authority to investigate all individuals in New York with the surna 'Fiers.'
The FBI had also taken interest.
Although McCann had confessed to ordering Rajit assassination, the FBI Director of the New York branch wasn't convinced.
There was no way McCann, acting alone, could have obtained classified intelligence or orchestrated such a sophisticated operation.
With Connor's death placing them under heavy scrutiny, the FBI was now under pressure. Had the Director not been protected by high-ranking political allies, he would have been fired on the spot.
All eyes turned toward the mysterious Gustav Fiers.
Before, he had been difficult to track.
Now, the hunt was on.
The FBI raided multiple locations tied to him.
But when they stord his company, they found nothing.
Frustrated, they escalated asures—tightening security at New York's borders, monitoring travel logs, and vowing to uncover the mastermind behind the scenes.
["Russian gangster Aleksei Sisevich, with the help of an unidentified group, has escaped from 'The Vault,' a high-security secret prison!"]
[On the TV screen, a news anchor reported the shocking developnt. A large portrait of Aleksei—Rhino—filled the display.]
[In a modest apartnt, a young boy watched the broadcast intently. His na was George. The sa boy who had once been bullied… and saved by Spider-Man.]
["Since Spider-Man disappeared five months ago, cri has been on the rise. This is yet another example! The city is suffering in his absence!"]
[George walked over to the window, his heart sinking. He stuck his head out, searching for a familiar red-and-blue figure swinging between the buildings.]
[But there was nothing.]
[With a sigh, he turned back, his gaze landing on a small miniature wind turbine. A reminder of the hero who had once stood up for him.]
["Believe it or not," the anchor continued, "even the NYPD has joined the chorus of concerned citizens! Everyone is asking the sa question—Where is Spider-Man?"]
[In a quiet ho, Aunt May packed a few belongings into a box. She glanced at Peter, who stood motionless nearby, lost in his thoughts.]
[He reached out and turned off the TV.]
[Months had passed, yet the grief still weighed heavily on him.]
["What a sha," Aunt May sighed, sealing the box. "Spider-Man just vanished… like that. It's a pity. Seems like people really need him."]
[Peter flinched at her words. He didn't want to hear about Spider-Man. Every ntion of that na brought back the mory of that night. His heart clenched with pain.]
[He grabbed a bowl and started to leave.]
["Peter?" Aunt May called after him. "Where are you going?"]
["Eat cereal," Peter muttered. His voice was flat, emotionless.]
[Aunt May's expression softened with concern. "Peter... where are you really going?"]
[He stopped. For a long mont, he said nothing. Then, finally, he turned back to face her.]
["I don't know."]
["It's funny," Aunt May mused, lifting another box. "I've been trying to clean up a little… pack so of Ben's things away."]
[Peter watched her in silence.]
[She gave a small, sad smile. "Strange, isn't it? The heavier the box, the lighter I feel."]
[Peter frowned slightly, unsure what she ant. "Are you… throwing them away?"]
["No! Oh my God, no! Of course not!" Aunt May gasped. "I could never do that. Ben's things are part of my life! I just… found a better place for them."]
[She t his gaze, her red-rimd eyes filled with understanding. "Peter... you need to do the sa."]
[Peter's throat tightened. He understood her aning. No matter how much he missed Gwen, she was never coming back.]
[She smiled softly. "I'll take one last look, then put them where they belong."]
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