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Even though the Lizard tried to flee, Peter couldn't let the monster go. If it burst onto the streets, its sheer size would cause havoc in New York.
Peter scrambled up and chased the lizard down the wall as soon as it turned.
He had an excellent sense of direction. He memorized the routes after days in the sewers. When he estimated their path, he realized the lizard was not running at random; it was going somewhere on purpose.
Where? And why is this so? So, what was going on?
Peter remembered seeing a lizard's tail among the biological samples at the reservoir service bay. Could that mad scientist have created this monster?
The Lizard pounded ahead, and Peter followed. Perhaps the scientist had overlooked the dimensions down here; the creature was so large that it had to duck while running.
Some tunnels in New York's sewers are over ten meters tall, but in narrower passages, the Lizard could only hunch forward.
This allowed Peter to slow it down. He snapped a webline across its shins, only for the creature, still full of wit, to tuck its legs and step over the line.
With his plan foiled, Peter hurled a strand around its neck, hoping to use momentum to pull it down. The lizard didn't bite. As soon as the web tightened, it grabbed the line and flung Spider-Man away.
Peter noticed quickly: he tucked and rolled, popped back up, and pursued his goal. He had almost no experience fighting something so large—no mugger stands four or five meters tall.
Its massive tail was even more terrifying than the claws. Peter was slapped into a wall by a single sweeping lash. He hadn't anticipated the change in tactics and bore the brunt of it.
Fortunately, he had stamina and recovered quickly. Moments later, he was on its heels again.
Peter realized that to deal with such a brute, he might need it upside-down. The sewer cramped him just as much as it did the Lizard; the monster filled the corridors, and Peter couldn't weave webs freely to contain it.
And as their path became clearer, he realized what was happening: it was heading straight for Stark Tower.
He was familiar with this route because he had taken it to his internship after sewer mapping.
He had no idea what the creature wanted, but he knew he couldn't allow it to reach the surface and rampage through Stark Tower. Tony was in a bad mood, and he was most likely still drunk. If he was unable to put on a suit in time, in the building, thousands of employees would be in danger.
The Lizard appeared to understand what Peter was thinking: running was easier aboveground. It leaped at the nearest manhole, ignoring the cover entirely. It ripped right through the street.
Chaos. A dozen cars slammed on their brakes and piled up, resulting in collisions one after another.
Peter wanted to help, but the monster was speeding over cars toward Stark Tower. He hit his wrist and communicated, "Mr. Stark!? Hey, Mr. Stark! Are you out there?! Get up! A lizard monster is on its way! Wake up!"
There was no response. He cursed and addressed Steve. "Cap! I urgently require traffic control. Monster on the main east approach to Stark Tower—help is needed!"
He was about to call Schiller when the Lizard jumped into Stark Tower's surrounding parking structure.
Peter was obligated to follow. He webbed to a neighboring tower's glass curtain, swung down, and drop-kicked the Lizard in the neck.
The giant staggered but regained balance using its tail.
It tried to seize him, but Stark Tower consists of five or six interconnected buildings—ideal terrain for Peter's mobility. He slung one line, doubled back with another, and attempted to yank the Lizard's arm out from underneath it. The Lizard escaped and charged inside.
The interior is vast and tall; each floor's high clearance allows the creature to move freely.
Tony hadn't responded, but JARVIS did. When he heard the phrase "monster inbound," he activated emergency protocols, evacuating the majority of the staff and activating every available safeguard. It reduced the Lizard's speed.
However, Tony had to approve the final lockdown. Some blast doors would not open without it, and large-scale defenses would be unable to be armed. The Lizard was not stopped; it was only delayed.
Peter also recognized that he lacked heavy hits. He'd stumbled and floored the beast several times, but it was too tough. A few punches only caused it to shake its head.
Worse, it has regenerated. Peter sliced off a piece of tail with falling glass, intending to remove the balancing limb first, only to see it regrow in seconds.
Peter swung across the ceiling, attempting to draw attention. "Hi, big guy! Where do you
get your instant glue? Daddy Spider's bringing the boot! Like this!"
He swung in for a chest kick, but the Lizard learned quickly and sidestepped, grabbed his leg, windmilled, and threw him.
Peter blasted through a row of desks and out a shattered window, executing a midair roll, webbing the wall, and swinging back through another broken pane to mule-kick the Lizard's spine.
His technique had improved since training with Steve: he now uses webs for movement, gravity, and momentum for impact. It didn't kill the Lizard, but it did stagger and daze him enough to slow his ascent.
They fought upward, trading blows and space, until the Lizard arrived at a high floor.
"JARVIS! How long will Mr. Stark take? Hurry!"
"I am initiating emergency wake protocols…"
"What emergency—"
A cataclysmic blast of rock music detonated through the tower, easily exceeding a hundred decibels and knocking both Spider-Man and the Lizard over.
"This is your emergency wake-up?! Did you ever hear of headphones?! This is an area-of-effect attack!" Peter yelled, his voice muffled by the din.
JARVIS turned up his volume. "Mr. Stark abhors noise. It is extremely effective for rousing him!"
A suit rushed through the blown-out window. Tony yelled, "Enough! Turn it off now! I'm up!"
When the music stopped, all three of Spider-Man, Iron Man, and the Lizard were ringing.
Tony rammed the Lizard full-throttle, knocking it out of the tower, before Peter's ears stopped screaming.
The drop was fatal unless the Lizard grew wings. But in midair, it whipped its tail against Tony's armor, flipped, grabbed the window ledge, and jumped back into the fight.
Tony, despite being sober, was still foggy. The tail strike had him groaning on one knee.
Peter continued to harass the Lizard while Tony established a line of communication.
"Listen. We led it to the roof. I'll knock it off with a second suit from the side. It can't fly, correct?"
"No. If it had the ability, it would not be walking. However, the regen is a problem—it may survive the fall."
"It won't be moving afterward."
With Tony's repulsors and interior turrets, as well as Peter's weaving attacks, they drove the Lizard onto the rooftop.
Tony hovered low on the edge, firing. The Lizard came after Tony instead of Peter.
Tony pretended to open up and dropped altitude. The Lizard leaped and clamped onto the armor. Tony dragged it over the edge, and both of them fell.
He intended to bait the leap and have a second suit slam it off, but the monster was too quick and grabbed the primary armor.
It had enormous strength. The systems flared, and smoke trailed. "JARVIS, discharge!"
"Sir, a full discharge will brick the suit. You will die if you fall from this height."
The wind rumbled past. "Do it. Discard the suit. Get rid of me. Someone will catch me!"
A drumbeat. The armor then exploded with lightning. The lizard twitched and let go.
The suit exploded, and the cockpit shattered. Tony tumbled into the open air.
Fall saved his life. Peter caught him in mid-fall after a webline snapped taut.
The exploding suit and Lizard collided in the street.
The dust erupted. Peter placed Tony down. A fall from that height would have been fatal, and no god could have helped.
As the smoke cleared, they noticed the monster lying in a crater, limbs at grotesque angles, and organs most likely pulp.
But it was healing: bones squirming back into place. "Oh my God, is that still regenerating? That's a medical miracle."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "A medical miracle, yes…"
"We have to hold back now. If it recovers—"
Peter moved forward, but a second suit appeared and armored Tony again. He stood in Peter's way. "That self-healing process consumes energy. He's almost done. Let's see his real face."
Peter blinked. Is this the real face? It's just a big lizard, right?
"I found someone doing experiments in the sewers," Peter said. "It must be the product. We apprehend him and then pursue whoever is responsible."
As Peter described how he had followed signs through the tunnels, he noticed the monster shrinking. At times, it was about human size.
The saurian features faded as the green scales receded. Peter's eyes widened. In the crater, there was a middle-aged man with gray hair.
"Dr. Connors!"
Shock took away his ability to speak. "How—how is… how could the Lizard be Dr. Connors?"
"I thought that regen looked familiar," Tony said, removing his faceplate and entering the pit. Peter followed, stunned.
"There must be a mistake. Was he set up? He cannot be a monster. Dr. Connors is an effective teacher. He's really helped me—"
Tony remained silent. His haggard, hungover face was drawn tightly.
The man groaned. Peter rushed to his aid.
Most injuries had knitted before reversion as a result of hyper-regeneration. Connors, drenched in blood, rolled onto his back and rasped, "I was so close… just a little more and I could have saved you all… devil…"
Tony did not retort with a quip. He stared silently.
Peter couldn't process anything. "What exactly is going on? What occurred? Dr. Connors—this must be a mistake, right?"
"Peter. Peter Parker," Connors murmured, eyes closed, voice exhausted. "Spider-Man… you destroyed…"
Peter was unable to tell whether he stopped due to weakness or refusal.
"It's me. Please, Doctor, tell me what happened."
Connors' strength was gone; the scholar couldn't even sit up.
He spoke hoarsely from the crater: "I told you this story once…you weren't really listening…"
"I was a captain. A battlefield surgeon. I remained under the most intense shelling for 63 hours."
"I lost my arm—and nearly all my friends…"
"We followed directions. I stood firm. Thirty-two men. Six of them came back. I had an arm amputated. Others have lost their legs. But we came back."
Compensation? Yeah, of course. They examined us, kept us in the hospital for a while, gave us money, and then did nothing.
"No one gives a damn about the life of a disabled man. Nobody gives a damn when you can't even open a can after spending a fortune."
"No one cares about the pity in their eyes—or the impatience when you can't lift something…"
"All I wanted to do was change that. I only wanted to change it."
Peter felt his chest tighten. He removed his mask and took a deep breath. "You changed it," he said, his eyes red. "We were so close—the regenerative serum worked—"
"Yes. It's almost over. I also thought so. Then I realized that last 'bit' was a wall we might never scale."
His throat worked slowly. "We were chased off like rats. No one cared how much this research might change the life of the 'trash' at the bottom."
"Even if I was one minute from success, they would still throw me out."
He met Tony's gaze with dull eyes. "Thrown out by devils who care only for themselves and profit…"
"It's not like that." Peter got down on one knee. "There's a misunderstanding—I can—"
His voice gave way. He shuddered and covered his face. As Connors faded away, Peter unraveled.
"No—wait, Dr. Connors. Stay tuned. We will save you—"
He didn't understand why he said it. Ten minutes ago, he wanted the monster dead.
Now the picture was clear: Tony terminated the joint medical project due to military pressure; Dr. Connors' regenerative-serum work stalled; he became the Lizard and returned for revenge.
Peter had a thought: if the Lizard was Dr. Connors, was the burned lair his final lab?
Had he ruined his last chance? Was the recent termination the catalyst for his emotional breakdown?
A suffocating fear swallowed him. Why? He'd only intended to do good.
He had never experienced such helpless agony.
Dr. Connors was a good man: a soldier and surgeon who had given his life for his country before devoting himself to research to help others like him. Tony Stark was also a good man; the shutdown was not entirely his fault, and he had just saved New Yorkers by stopping the Lizard.
Peter considered himself a good man because he acted as soon as he sensed danger.
But now, Connors lay blood-soaked and barely alive in a crater, and Tony stood motionless, as if accepting this as punishment.
Peter's chest pain was more severe than any blade.
The mentor who guided his studies and the benefactor who provided him with arms and shelter were at odds.
He didn't know who to help. It was like grasping a two-edged sword and driving it into both of them. Tears streamed down his suit collar.
Peter was standing. Another sunset washed over the sky. In a haze, he remembered Schiller's words: there is no black or white—only a blur of gray.
This is the absolute truth. He couldn't always be on "the side of justice," as he had imagined.
He finally realized that the saddest thing is not good people being beaten by bad people, but good people being beaten by good people.
No one emerges victorious in a conflict between the virtues.
📝 FOOTNOTE
The NYC Department of Health has quietly updated its "Unlicensed Biomedical Research" violation code: "Section 7-C now includes 'lizard transformation' as grounds for immediate eviction and mandatory therapy. Also, if you wake up with scales, please call 311 before attempting revenge on Stark Tower."
Peter stood in the wreckage, mask half-off, breath ragged.
Somewhere across town, a janitor wiped green blood off a manhole cover.
He didn't call it monster residue.
He called it rent.