"Damn it! Damn it all!"
Maxwell "Max" Dillon kicked aside an empty beer can as he staggered along the rooftop of a high-rise building in Midtown. The night breeze was sharp, biting into his cheeks, but the alcohol in his blood kept him numb.
"I designed the entire damn circuit overhaul for that building! It was my plan. But who gets the credit? Those parasites in upper management!"
Max was an electrical engineer—at least, that's what his badge at Oscorp Industries said. But in truth, he was a glorified maintenance man, constantly overlooked, constantly dismissed.
He'd dreamed of working with electricity since childhood. It had fascinated him—how it flowed, how it hummed beneath his fingers. But growing up under a dismissive single mother who thought he'd never amount to anything, Max was pushed into factory work before he ever got a shot.
Even now, after clawing his way into Oscorp, he remained invisible—unappreciated, friendless, and underpaid. And today was the final straw. He had finally contributed a brilliant circuit design that could cut Oscorp's energy cost by 17%. And yet, his supervisor took all the credit.
Max sat on the rooftop ledge, a bottle in his hand, scrolling numbly through the newsfeed on his cracked phone.
Oscorp in Crisis: Internal Shareholder War Freezes Major R&D Projects
"Typical," he muttered. "They shut down the science to protect their wallets."
Norman Osborn Still Missing: Body Not Recovered – Faked Death Suspected
"Hah! That maniac's probably sipping cocktails in the Bahamas. Good riddance."
Tony Stark Ends Stark Industries' Weapons Division—Stock Market in Freefall
"You smug billionaire—you cost me half my savings. I hope your suit rusts underwater."
Ghost-Spider Dismantles Another Gang Operation – Mob Boss 'Tombstone' in Custody
Fans hail her as the city's most relatable superhero. Though, fans of the 'Knightress' might disagree…
Max scoffed. "Superheroes. What do they know about people like me? They never saved me from this hellhole."
He tossed the phone aside, stood up on the ledge, and looked down.
Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was years of pent-up frustration. But Max took a deep breath and leaned forward.
He didn't notice the two figures swinging rapidly between the buildings nearby.
"Cindy," Jack Kadere said, one arm securely around her waist as they soared through the air, "your place is way too far. You know, Sunnyvale Manor has plenty of empty rooms. Free water, free electricity, no rent. I could even assign a driver for you."
Cindy wriggled in his grip, rolling her eyes. "You sound like you're advertising an Airbnb. And keep your hands to yourself, Kadere. I can feel you poking around places you shouldn't."
Jack smirked. "I was just curious about your spider silk. Purely scientific."
"That strange bond between us must be messing with your brain," she grumbled. "You're supposed to be this refined, well-spoken teacher—and now you're trying to grope your student mid-air?"
"Felicia would be so disappointed in me."
Cindy gave him a dry look. "She'd probably be jealous."
Jack was about to tease her further when suddenly a soft chime echoed in his head—the system.
[Detected: Gwen Stacy's destined nemesis – "Electro" Maxwell Dillon]
His eyes flicked to a nearby rooftop. There he is.
Max was teetering at the edge, the wind catching his coat.
Still just a man, not yet the villain.
Jack narrowed his eyes. "Huh… didn't think I'd run into him this early."
He could feel the threads of fate tightening. Fated enemy, the system said. That meant Max Dillon—if left unchecked—would become a threat to Gwen, maybe even kill her.
Jack didn't believe in letting enemies grow stronger before dealing with them. But he wasn't without a moral compass either. He wouldn't kill Max. Just… intervene.
"Let's help him," Jack muttered.
"What?" Cindy turned to him.
But before she could react, a sudden gust of wind conjured by Jack's subtle power nudged Max—hard.
Too hard.
Max gasped as he lost his balance. "No—NO—!"
He slipped off the ledge and plummeted, his screams lost in the wind.
"Whoa! Incoming body!" Cindy shouted.
She acted on pure instinct. Still holding Jack, she fired a massive web net that caught Max mid-fall and smacked him against the glass side of a building several floors below—like a fly trapped in a web.
Max blinked, disoriented, his legs dangling above the street.
Cindy hovered nearby, still clutching Jack. "Seriously?! Who just jumps off a building like that? If you're gonna end it, at least don't drop on people!"
She clutched her chest, trying to calm her pounding heart.
Cindy clutched her chest in alarm as they landed on a rooftop. Her spider-sense had flared to the point of panic. Compared to Gwen, Cindy's precognition was sharper, her reflexes faster—but her stamina and raw power lagged slightly behind. Taking that kind of impact would've hurt, especially while carrying someone like Jack.
Jack tilted his head, amused by the outburst. "You're supposed to be a superhero, aren't you? Why so squeamish?"
Cindy narrowed her eyes beneath the mask. "Who told you I was a hero?"
She crossed her arms, posture tense. "Just because you have powers doesn't mean you should go parading around like some do-gooder. You think being a hero's all rooftop swings and fan clubs? No. We're targets now—because of what we are."
Jack raised a brow. "You're talking about the Inheritors, right? Morlun and his family?"
Cindy blinked. "Wait… you know about them?"
"Of course I do," Jack replied casually. "I just don't care."
The truth was, Jack's spider-based powers came from the system—not from the Web of Life and Destiny like Cindy's or Gwen's. The Inheritors, devourers of Spider-Totems across the multiverse, couldn't trace or harm him. Their totem-hunting tricks wouldn't work on someone like him.
Meanwhile, Max Dillon groaned, stuck to the window like a fly in amber. "I can't even die properly..."
Cindy sighed and gently lowered Jack to the rooftop. Then, hanging upside down by a single strand of webbing, she extended another line to reel Max up.
"Let's get him off the window. He's lucky I didn't let him splatter."
Max blinked up at her. The figure before him—lean, graceful, masked, and wrapped in a sleek, shining spider-silk suit—looked like something out of a dream.
"You… You're a superhero?" he mumbled, starstruck.
From his upside-down perspective, Cindy looked like an angel. He couldn't stop staring.
Jack, noticing his gaze, casually extended an arm and placed a hand in front of Cindy's chest, blocking Max's line of sight. "Eyes up here, buddy."
Cindy froze. "Jack…"
"You're welcome," Jack said with a smirk.
Her fingers trembled. She almost dropped Max.
....
Later, at Oscorp Tower…
Inside the Chairman's office, tension brewed.
An assistant nervously presented a tablet. "Sir, there's a video circulating online. One of our electrical engineers—Max Dillon—was seen attempting suicide from the roof. He was saved by what appears to be a new Spider-type hero."
"The Labor Protection Bureau is investigating us for workplace negligence, and the board is concerned that—"
"That's enough!" Harry Osborn snapped.
At the mention of a Spider, his expression soured. His jaw tightened, fists clenched.
"I have enough problems with these leeches on the board. I don't need you bringing me that name."
The employee gulped, nodded, and quietly left.
Harry stood alone, his knuckles white as he slammed a palm onto the desk.
A fingerprint scanner activated.
With a hiss, a hidden compartment in the office wall slid open—revealing a private vault.
Inside: a collection of dangerous legacy tech.
The Green Goblin's suit. The glider. Pumpkin bombs. And a vial of enhanced Goblin serum.
Norman Osborn, in his paranoia, had left behind everything—including a video message granting Harry access to all of it.
Harry stepped forward and picked up the sleek, sharp-edged helmet. For a long moment, he hesitated.
Then he slowly slid it onto his head.
"No one," he growled, voice muffled by the mask, "no one is taking this company from me."
A twisted, manic chuckle echoed through the darkened room.
....
Meanwhile… Beneath the city
Peter Parker's voice echoed through a damp tunnel.
"Dr. Connors? Are you here?"
He swept his flashlight across rusted pipes and dripping walls. His heart pounded with anticipation.
Above ground, New York was alive with chaos.
But below it… the real storm was beginning to churn.