Chapter 19: The Calculus of a Hero
The dilemma was exquisitely frustrating. If Talon helped Octavius crush the Spider, he would alienate a potential genetic source. If he helped Spider-Man, he would lose the brilliant, unstable mind of Doctor Octopus and his revolutionary fusion technology.
There has to be a way, Talon thought, his mind racing faster than the train below. A third option.
The solution came to him with perfect clarity. The girl. Mary Jane Watson. If she were free, Spider-Man would have no reason to stay and fight. He could disengage, and Octavius, for all his mechanical prowess, could never match the Wall-Crawler's mobility in an urban environment.
But as he formulated this plan, the situation on the train escalated. Octavius, enraged by Spider-Man's interference, had infiltrated the driver's cab. A flick of a powerful metal tentacle, and the driver was dead. The villain seized the controls, slamming the throttle forward. The train surged, its acceleration unnerving.
"He broke the systems!" Talon muttered, watching the scene unfold through the Transformer's enhanced sensors. "He's recreated the scenario from the film." But this wasn't a film anymore. The stakes were real, the lives on board were real. Octavius, now backed by the promise of Talon's resources, had no reason to hold back. He would let this train full of people die just to prove a point to Spider-Man.
On the roof, Octavius hurled the severed brake handle at Spider-Man. "It can't be stopped! It will accelerate until it reaches the end of the line! Let's see you be a hero now!"
Spider-Man, desperate, tried everything his agile mind could conjure—using his body as a brake, shooting webs to anchor the train to the surrounding buildings. But it was futile. The webs snapped, his strength was insufficient. The panicked screams of the passengers filtered up through the metal, a chorus of impending doom.
Talon watched, his own internal conflict mirroring the chaos below. He was not a hero. He was a pragmatist, an architect of his own power. Letting these people die was the most efficient path. It would allow him to secure Octavius without further complication.
But the cries of the children, the raw, human terror—it was a variable his cold calculus had not fully accounted for. He was not so far gone that he could ignore a slaughter happening right in front of him. Not when he had the power to stop it.
Damn it.
"Optimus Prime. Intercept the train. Full reverse thrust."
The massive robot descended, landing on the tracks ahead of the locomotive with a ground-shaking impact. It turned, planting its feet and leaning its back against the train's nose. Then, with a deafening roar, the jet systems in its legs and back ignited at maximum power, a torrent of blue energy screaming against the train's momentum.
The shriek of metal on metal filled the air. The train's forward surge faltered, its speed bleeding off as the Transformer dug its heels in, carving furrows in the tracks.
"Spider-Man!" Talon's amplified voice boomed. "The cab! Destroy the control systems completely!"
Spider-Man, startled by the sudden rescue, scrambled into the shattered cab. He began tearing at the consoles with frantic strength.
"You!" Octavius roared from the roof, his fury directed at the Transformer. "Reeve! This is not our bargain!"
"Our bargain was for your mind, Octavius, not for the murder of civilians!" Talon shot back, his voice strained with the effort of holding back thousands of tons of steel. "Stand down!"
As Spider-Man smashed the last of the controls, the train's engines died completely. With its motive power gone and the Transformer's immense force acting as a brake, the train shuddered to a final, groaning halt.
Silence, for a moment, broken only by the hiss of the Transformer's cooling systems and the relieved sobs from within the carriages.
Spider-Man slumped against the broken console, panting. He looked up at the giant robot. "You... you saved them. Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Talon replied, the Transformer straightening up. "Your debt remains."
He turned his attention to Octavius, who stood on the roof, his mechanical arms twitching with barely suppressed rage.
"Doctor," Talon said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The spectacle is over. You have proven your point. Spider-Man is irrelevant now. Your work, your fusion reactor, is what matters. Come with me. Now."
He extended a massive, metallic hand. It was not a request. It was an order.
Octavius glared from the robot to Spider-Man, his hatred warring with his ambition. The display of raw power from the Transformer was a potent reminder of the resources now available to him. The chance to finally achieve his life's work, unhindered by lack of funds or materials, was a siren's call he couldn't ignore.
With a final, venomous look at Spider-Man, he snarled, "This isn't finished, Spider." He then stepped onto the offered hand.
The Transformer's fingers closed gently but securely around him, and with a final burst from its thrusters, it lifted into the sky, leaving a stunned Spider-Man and a train full of grateful survivors behind.
Talon had his physicist. He had preserved his chance at the Spider's genes another day. And he had, despite his best intentions, played the hero. It was an unsettling feeling, one he would have to analyze later. For now, he had a new asset to integrate and a growing empire to manage. The calculus of power was becoming increasingly complex.