Ben couldn't exactly transform into Grey Matter in front of Harry and a diner full of witnesses to produce additional technical documentation. He was stuck with what he'd already prepared, which meant relying on persuasion rather than evidence.
"Harry, I know this seems impossible," Ben said, meeting his friend's skeptical gaze with steady determination. "It probably sounds like pure fantasy. But I promise you—I can make this work. I give you my word."
The sincerity in Ben's voice carried weight that mere technical specifications couldn't convey. Despite the years of separation, Harry recognized the tone—it was the same steady confidence that had defined Ben throughout their childhood, the unwavering reliability that had made him a natural leader among their small group.
Harry found himself wavering. The documents were incomprehensible, the timeline seemed impossible, and the financial requirements were staggering. But this was Ben—the same person who'd never once broken a promise or led them astray.
What if he's actually serious? Harry thought. What if those formulas really do represent breakthrough science that I'm just too limited to understand?
After all, this was Ben Parker—methodical, careful, never prone to wild fantasies or impossible schemes.
"Alright," Harry said finally, taking a deep breath as if preparing to jump off a cliff. He reached for the technical folder again. "I'll show this to my father. Oscorp has dozens of experts who could evaluate whether this is feasible. If there's real potential here, maybe Dad would be willing to fund a new research division."
Harry's commitment was touching in its loyalty—he was prepared to risk his father's scorn and disappointment purely on the strength of their friendship.
But before Harry could secure the documents, Ben's hand slammed down on the folder with tremendous force.
CRACK!
The tempered glass table surface exploded into countless fragments, each piece no larger than a fingernail. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet diner, causing every patron to turn and stare in shock.
"Ben...?" Harry stared at his friend in bewilderment, uncertainty creeping into his voice.
"Sorry," Ben said quickly, clearly as surprised by the destruction as anyone else. "The glass quality must have been... really poor."
The diner staff rushed over in a panic, checking for injuries and offering profuse apologies for the apparently defective furniture. The manager even attempted to provide financial compensation, which both boys politely declined. Everyone present accepted the explanation that the glass had simply failed catastrophically—no one suspected that a teenage boy could generate enough force to shatter tempered glass with his bare hands.
After the commotion died down, Ben and Harry decided to continue their conversation somewhere more private. They walked along the East River, the Manhattan skyline glittering across the water as evening settled over the city.
"Don't show those documents to Norman," Ben said, the river breeze ruffling his hair. "I'm not looking to partner with Oscorp, Harry. Just with you."
Ben had no intention of sharing advanced technology with Norman Osborn, especially given the man's eventual transformation into the Green Goblin. Even in his current state as a respected businessman and scientist, Norman operated within a corporate structure filled with shareholders and board members who would demand their cut of any breakthrough innovations.
Ben could handle those complications if necessary, but why invite unnecessary trouble?
"Do you understand?" Ben pressed, pointing at Harry's chest for emphasis. "It's just you and me. Maybe Peter joins us eventually, but no involvement from Oscorp or any other established corporation."
Harry stopped walking, staring at Ben with obvious surprise. "Just us?"
"That's right," Ben confirmed, leaning against the riverside railing. "Oscorp isn't controlled solely by your father. I don't want other people interfering with my company's direction."
Ben's ultimate goal was building Primus Technologies into something that could rival or exceed Stark Industries. Starting with a clean slate, free from external investors and their competing agendas, seemed like the wisest approach.
"I understand your concerns," Harry said, nodding slowly. "To be honest, if those shareholders saw an opportunity, they'd probably carve up Oscorp itself and not leave a single bone for the Osborn family."
"Exactly. That's what I'm trying to avoid. Besides," Ben added with calculated appeal to Harry's deepest insecurities, "if you succeed without Oscorp's resources backing you, don't you think Norman would be more impressed? Building something from nothing using only your own capabilities?"
The suggestion hit its mark perfectly. Harry's expression brightened as he considered the implications.
"You're right. But Ben, developing nanotechnology without Oscorp's financial resources..." Harry shook his head with obvious concern. "Building even a basic nano-scale laboratory would cost millions just for the initial setup."
"We don't have to start with nanotechnology," Ben replied after a moment's consideration.
The advanced nanobot concepts were indeed too far ahead of current capabilities. His advantage lay in having working examples to reverse-engineer rather than developing everything from theoretical foundations, which would significantly reduce research costs and development time.
"What are you thinking instead?" Harry asked.
Ben's mind immediately turned to Tony Stark's armor. The Mark III contained numerous technologies that could be adapted for civilian applications. More importantly, with Grey Matter's enhanced intellect, Ben could fully understand and improve upon Stark's innovations within a reasonable timeframe.
He could develop upgraded components and systems, then license or sell the improvements to interested parties.
"Something much more manageable," Ben said with a confident smile. "I estimate we'll need about ten million dollars in startup capital."
Harry's expression grew pained. He'd been expecting to invest a few hundred thousand dollars in his friend's small business venture, not commit to funding a major technological enterprise.
"I guess I'll have to sell a few cars," Harry said with resignation.
The subsequent discussion of equity distribution proceeded more smoothly than Ben had anticipated. Young Harry approached the arrangement with friendship rather than business acumen, showing no interest in maximizing his ownership stake or protecting his investment through complex contractual arrangements.
"Money isn't really important to me," Harry said with a dismissive shrug. "You asked for help, so I'm helping. It's that simple."
"Besides," he continued, clapping Ben on the shoulder, "I'll inherit Oscorp eventually. Even if my father isn't satisfied with my performance, I'm still his only son. The best way you can repay me is by making our company successful enough to change how he sees me."
"I won't let you down, Harry," Ben promised with absolute sincerity.
As Ben prepared to leave, having accomplished his primary objective, Harry grabbed his arm.
"Wait a minute..."
"Something wrong?" Ben asked.
"Seriously?" Harry's voice carried mock outrage. "I just agreed to give you my entire life savings, and I might have to sell my car collection, and you're planning to abandon me on a street corner?"
"Why are you making me sound like some kind of user who disappears the moment he gets what he wants?"
"Because that's exactly what you're doing!" Harry accused. "The least you could do is buy me dinner."
Without waiting for a response, Harry hooked his arm around Ben's shoulders and began steering him toward Queens. "It's been ages since I've seen Peter. I finally escaped from boarding school—I'm not going back until absolutely necessary!"
After all that negotiation, it really was about Peter the whole time, Ben thought with amusement. And you both still insist you're just friends.
Ben rolled his eyes but didn't protest. Harry and Peter did share a special bond, having known each other since early childhood. Their friendship had a natural ease that Ben, with his more mature perspective, sometimes struggled to match.
When they reached the Parker house, Ben, Sr. and May were still at work. The family's financial pressures meant longer hours for both adults—Ben, Sr. often worked double shifts while May juggled multiple part-time jobs. For years, both Ben and Peter had wanted to contribute through after-school employment, but Ben, Sr. had insisted they focus on their education instead.
Peter, however, was home. The incident with Aunt May had prompted some serious self-reflection about his priorities. While he hadn't abandoned his interest in his parents' research, he'd recognized the need to balance that curiosity with attention to his living family members.
Consequently, he'd spent the past few days working on his Spider-Man equipment rather than visiting Dr. Connors. He'd already provided the crucial formula that would solve the cross-species genetic puzzle—there was no urgent need for additional collaboration.
"I'll check on the doctor's progress with the serum later," Peter muttered to himself as he fine-tuned the mechanical components spread across his desk.
Web-shooters. The design had come to him with surprising ease, as if the knowledge had been waiting in his subconscious. The synthetic webbing formula had proved equally intuitive—somehow, his enhanced biology understood exactly which enzymes and proteins needed to combine to create the desired adhesive properties.
All that remained was completing the costume and perfecting the delivery mechanism.
"I don't know where Ben disappeared to this time," Peter said with mild frustration. "He claims he doesn't want to be a superhero, but he won't help me with any of the technical work."
Despite his complaints, Peter was already planning to surprise his cousin with a second costume. Even if Ben insisted he had no interest in heroic activities, Peter wasn't about to exclude him when something exciting happened.
"This design should work perfectly for him," Peter said, selecting an alternative color scheme from Ben's original sketches.
Just then, his enhanced hearing picked up footsteps on the front porch, followed by the distinctive sound of the door opening. His newly developed spider-sense tingled faintly—not with danger, but with recognition.
"Ben must be back," Peter said, gathering the costume designs to show his cousin the options.
But as footsteps approached his room, Peter heard an unexpected voice calling up the stairs—one that made him grin with genuine excitement.
"I think these stairs are about ready to collapse," Harry's voice complained as he climbed the creaking wooden steps.
"According to family tradition, you should call them Uncle Stairs," Ben replied with dry humor. "But don't worry—they don't have osteoporosis, so they won't actually fall apart."
Harry reached Peter's door just as it swung open, revealing Peter with an armful of superhero costume designs.
"Long time no see, Pete!" Harry called out enthusiastically, then paused as his gaze fell on the sketches in his friend's hands.