Peter carefully tossed his phone to the side, sticking it against the wall with a quick shot of webbing. Hidden. Safe.
His eyes flicked across the sewer to another wall, where a small camera—also webbed in place—waited silently.
The plan was simple:
Spider-Man would capture his fight with the Lizard on film. With proof in hand, Captain Stacy would finally see the truth—that Spider-Man wasn't some masked menace, but a hero fighting for the people of New York.
Combine that with saving dozens of lives on the Williamsburg Bridge last night, and even Stacy's stubborn prejudice would have to crack.
Half the battle would be won.
And once Stacy realized Spider-Man had been misunderstood all along, Peter was sure the second half would follow:
The day Captain Stacy looked him in the eye and said—
"Peter, I was wrong. You were right."
The thought made him smirk behind the mask.
But then—
WHUMMM—
His Spider-Sense shrieked. Peter flinched instinctively, flipping to the side just as something massive crashed down behind him.
A wet splash thundered through the tunnel.
Out of the shadows, a hulking figure rose, scales slick, reeking of blood and decay.
The Lizard.
"Great," Peter muttered, clinging to the wall. "Perfect timing. Didn't even get to turn on the camera."
The monster's golden eyes locked onto him.
"You pest," the Lizard roared, voice echoing through the sewer. "Last night you interfered with me once. I let you crawl away. And now—you dare come hunting me?"
He lunged.
Peter twisted, firing off rapid web-shots. Thwip-thwip-thwip! White strands splattered across the Lizard's eyes, sealing them shut.
"Come on, Doc," Peter quipped, vaulting backward. "You're supposed to be a top biologist. Calling me a bug? That's a rookie mistake. Insects have three body segments. Spiders? Arachnids. Totally different class."
"WHO CARES!"
With a guttural roar, the Lizard ripped the webs from his face, his raw strength tearing through what should have been steel-strong fibers.
Peter cursed under his breath.
"He's still wet from the dive—that's killing the web's stickiness."
The plan was ruined. If he rushed back to turn on the camera now, he'd give away its location—and risk losing the only camera his dad had left behind in that old briefcase.
Too risky.
Peter sprang upward, scampering along the wall deeper into the sewer. If he couldn't record the fight, then at least he'd keep his gear safe.
The Lizard tore after him, frothing, his humanity drowned beneath the serum. "STOP RUNNING, SPIDER!"
Peter's mind raced.
This wasn't the same Dr. Connors he'd glimpsed on the bridge. Back then, there'd been intelligence—human sorrow—behind those reptilian eyes.
Now? Just blind rage.
The answer clicked.
Last night, Connors used too little serum. That's why he reverted to human form so quickly. But tonight… he doubled down. Bigger dose. Stronger body. But the cost? His mind.
Peter's eyes narrowed behind the mask.
Maybe I can use that.
He pushed his Spider-Sense outward, focusing. A blurred outline of the Lizard appeared in his mind's eye, moving through the tunnels behind him.
"Okay," Peter whispered. "Let's see if brute force beats brains."
He darted into a narrower stretch of sewer, weaving a thick rope of web across the passage—multiple strands fused together, tighter and stronger than steel.
The Lizard charged in without hesitation.
WHAM!
It was like a galloping horse smashing into a tripwire.
The monster flipped violently, crashing onto the concrete with a guttural scream.
Peter didn't waste the opening.
Thwip-thwip-thwip! A barrage of web-bullets slammed down, coating the Lizard from snout to tail, wrapping him like a grotesque mummy.
By the time the barrage ended, the sewer floor was covered in sticky silk.
And in the center of it all—snarling, writhing, but bound—was Dr. Curt Connors.
The Lizard.
---
—End of chapter—
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