Chapter 224: Playing Along
Green Goblin jr's breathing and heartbeat nearly stopped. Shock and disbelief flooded his features.
His emotions collapsed instantly. Body writhing against the ground, struggling to rise, desperate to land one punch on Batman.
He looked ready to tear flesh from Batman's bones.
"You?! All of this was YOU?! You watched me become this? You've been deceiving me from the very beginning?"
Hatred toward Batman and fury over Peter Parker's disappearance, over the lies—everything converged simultaneously on the figure before him.
"Let me go! I'll fucking kill you! Hypocrite! Liar! Monster!"
Green Goblin jr thrashed desperately. Muddy water entered his mouth unnoticed:
"Harry tried to stop me from kidnapping Aunt May to lure you out—he was willing to poison himself, take us both down together!"
"And you, Peter! Parker!"
"You imprisoned my father! Caused his disappearance! Now what do you want to do to me? Kill me? Let me reunite with Father underground?"
"Come on, do it! Peter! My best friend!"
In Green Goblin jr's words, Harry Osborn seemed like a separate person, yet simultaneously he called Norman Osborn "father."
Despite Green Goblin jr's emotionally shattered screaming, Batman remained calm. Emotionless as stone.
Batman's voice matched that stone-like coldness:
"Norman Osborn's disappearance wasn't my doing."
Green Goblin jr only laughed coldly, tilting his head to expose his throat, waiting for Batman to sever it.
But Batman didn't. Couldn't.
"Look at me, Harry." Batman said. "After Norman disappeared, I never stopped searching. Only recently discovered his possible location."
"He was imprisoned somewhere. Exploited. Transformed. Used as an experimental subject."
Green Goblin jr studied Batman suspiciously, watching rain soak Peter Parker's hair. His voice remained shrill:
"Really? So now I'm next? Going to be transformed? Become an experiment?"
Batman shook his head slightly:
"No. I brought him back."
Batman didn't mention exhausting nearly every resource in New Mexico. Didn't describe bones breaking countless times throughout his body, only to be repaired repeatedly with Venom's assistance.
Batman didn't explain that rescuing Norman Osborn had pushed Venom—who always called him "Dad," constantly begging for chocolate—into dormancy. No certainty when the symbiote would awaken.
Batman especially didn't mention simultaneously facing Gamma Goblin, Red Hulk, and The Leader, repeatedly approaching death's threshold throughout one endless night.
His voice carried zero inflection, as though retrieving Norman Osborn had been effortless. Casual. Simple.
But Green Goblin jr's worldview shattered regardless.
"Brought... him back?" All Green Goblin jr's shrillness, suspicion, and aggression froze instantly.
He'd assumed his father was long dead. That assumption had fueled his aggression, his hatred toward Batman and Peter Parker.
But the person who'd rescued his father was the very Batman he'd just been condemning. The best friend he'd believed had grown distant, even betrayed him.
He wasn't stupid.
After visiting Ravencroft Institute and discovering Norman's disappearance, Harry had frantically investigated every possible lead.
Beyond learning "Valentine" was actually Peter Parker in disguise, and that soldiers in combat gear with firearms had taken Norman—he'd found nothing.
A living person. A major corporate figure guaranteed to attract multilayered scrutiny. The "Green Goblin" Norman Osborn responsible for multiple murders couldn't simply vanish.
Finding zero leads indicated whoever took Norman possessed power beyond Harry's imagination.
Batman's casual "brought Norman back" struck Green Goblin jr like thunder.
He imagined countless scenarios—guns trained on Peter Parker from every direction. His mind desperately extrapolated unimaginable costs.
'If Peter's been doing this much for me, for my father... then my resentment, my transformation into Green Goblin... what does any of it mean?'
Everything felt unreal. Even the falling rain seemed ephemeral.
But the green in his eyes didn't fade. Instead it intensified. His voice remained shrill—like fingernails scraping glass:
"You brought him back? What about ME?!"
"Why didn't you tell me everything earlier? Why didn't you appear sooner?! Why wait until now to tell me with that... that condescending tone like you're doing me a favor?"
"You're lying, right? Just like you deceived me before?"
Batman remained silent, studying Green Goblin jr's vibrantly green, nearly malevolent eyes.
Batman had maintained one hypothesis. Now it crystallized into certainty:
The original Harry Osborn had completely merged with the Green Goblin. No longer separated into dual personalities like Norman Osborn.
Two full liters of stimulants had thoroughly twisted Harry Osborn's psyche. Green Goblin jr was now Harry Osborn. Indistinguishable.
Morbius remained sprawled on the ground, staring blankly at the rain-blurred letter.
Despite Green Goblin jr's frenzied screaming, Morbius appeared deaf to everything, eyes unfocused, prostrate in the mud.
"I haven't lied to you." Batman said. "But his condition isn't good—"
Green Goblin jr's shriek interrupted: "Shut up! Shut up! Let me think... Where is he?! Take me to him! Now!"
Stark Tower rooftop.
"Want a drink?" Tony Stark raised his glass toward Max Dillon.
Max had removed the beggar-like burlap cloak, now wearing a bathrobe from home. Combined with his body's faint golden electrical aura, the appearance was incongruous.
"I can't consume food." Max waved dismissively.
"You're seriously surviving purely on electrical current? Want me to get you some electricity? Prefer DC or AC?"
Tony had removed his Mark IV armor, wearing a deep brown shirt while circling Max with obvious curiosity.
"The performance you asked me to participate in is over, Tony Stark." Max's body slowly levitated. "It's just us now. Talk."
"About what?" Tony sipped his drink, then turned and spat it into a trash bin.
"Why could you find me? How did you know where I live? What do you want?" Max's voice contained clear threat.
Tony froze. He'd just realized Max had maintained vigilance throughout, never genuinely lowering his guard despite their pleasant conversation.
Tony had removed his Mark IV armor. Facing the electricity-wreathed, combat-ready "Electric King" Max Dillon, he possessed zero winning odds.
One wrong word, Tony had no doubt the powerful current would roast him thoroughly, inside and out.
Confronting this situation, Tony turned away, grabbed another bottle, poured himself a full glass, and drained it in one gulp.