After Hawk spoke, he could feel Gwen's hand tighten on his leg again.
He had gotten her signal.
It was a trap.
George's question was a trap...
Who was George Stacy? The Captain of the NYPD's 19th Precinct.
If Hawk were to call Spider-Man a vigilante, in George's eyes, it would be no different from defending a criminal.
Gwen's signal was a warning: don't fall for it. Answer the question in a way that would satisfy a police captain.
But...
If Hawk had called Spider-Man a criminal, he would have come across as a pathetic suck-up.
So, the question wasn't really a question. It was a no-win scenario. Whichever answer he chose would be the wrong one.
So between A and B, Hawk had chosen C.
He'd sidestepped the trap entirely!
He was just a student. He didn't care if Spider-Man was a hero or a villain. He only cared about getting his scholarship to NYU.
That's it.
If anyone else had given that answer, it might have come across as evasive.
But coming from Hawk, it was perfect.
Why?
Because Hawk was betting that George Stacy had already run a full background check on him.
And he wasn't afraid of what he'd find.
Because he hadn't just said it, it was how he lived.
He practiced what he preached.
The only inconsistency was that, after a lifetime of pinching pennies and never leaving New York City, he had suddenly taken a trip to Maryland.
But that was easy enough to explain.
He was a kid. He went on a vacation. It's not like he was out committing crimes.
Well, at least during his intensive training in Maryland, he hadn't done anything illegal.
Besides, every state had its own jurisdiction. What he did in Washington D.C had nothing to do with him now that he was back in New York.
After his answer, the look on George Stacy's face shifted from surprise to something else—a grudging respect. He nodded, and with that, the dinner was effectively over.
...
Nine o'clock that night.
Gwen walked Hawk to the door of her building. She smiled. "Get home safe. I'm sorry I can't drive you."
She was grounded.
Not by George, but by Helen. It was her punishment for running off to Maryland without telling anyone.
Normally, Gwen was free to come and go as she pleased before ten. But yesterday, Helen had moved her curfew up to nine.
"It's fine. The subway's fast enough."
"Okay. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah. See you tomorrow."
Hawk watched her go back inside, then turned and walked toward the subway station.
If the New York City subway was a chaotic circus during the day...
Then at night, it was a zombie apocalypse.
You couldn't expect a transit system where fare evasion was a city-wide sport to be particularly well-managed.
As a general rule, New Yorkers avoided the subway at night unless they had no other choice.
But Hawk wasn't too worried.
On the ride back to his apartment, he only had to knock out one tweaker and scare off two wannabe rappers who decided to perform in his face. All in all, he made it home without any real trouble.
When he got home, Hawk saw a text from Gwen. He replied, then went straight to bed.
School starts tomorrow.
He wanted to get up early to catch the free school bus.
Gwen had offered to pick him up on her way.
But he had refused.
If he accepted, Hawk felt like it would create the impression that he was only dating Gwen so he could bum a ride from her.
He knew that wasn't the case.
But he couldn't control what other people thought. And while he didn't care what they thought about him, he had to consider how it would look for Gwen.
...
The next morning, Hawk was waiting at the bus stop when the familiar orange school bus pulled up.
The driver was the same as always: the burly, bearded Mr. Hall, who looked like a biker but had the heart of a teddy bear.
"Morning, Mr. Hall."
"Morning, Hawk. Ready for your last semester?"
"I won't graduate until next year, Mr. Hall."
"You might get that NYU acceptance letter this semester. I've got faith in you, kid."
"Alright. Thanks, Mr. Hall."
"Don't mention it."
Hawk made his way to his usual seat in the back.
The bus continued on its route, picking up a student or two at every stop. When it reached the Forest Hills stop, a familiar face got on.
The moment he stepped on the bus, Peter Parker's Spider-Sense must have tingled. He immediately looked toward the back and saw Hawk, sitting alone by the window.
At the same time, Hawk looked up and saw Peter… and the boy standing next to him, who had a distinctly melancholy aura about him.
Is that...
Harry Osborn?
And not just any Harry Osborn. The James Franco version, the one who had beaten Peter to the punch with Mary Jane.
Peter said something to his friend, who had just transferred to Midtown from a school in England, and then led him down the aisle toward Hawk.
"Hawk."
"Peter."
"Hawk, this is Harry. He was studying in England, but he just transferred here. He's a senior, like us."
"Harry, this is Hawk."
Harry Osborn, not yet the Green Goblin, just a handsome kid in a blazer, smiled and extended his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Hawk."
"Likewise, Harry."
"..."
--
On the bus ride to Midtown Tech, Hawk learned how Peter and Harry had met.
Not that he didn't already know.
Peter's parents, back when they were still alive, had been scientists at Oscorp Industries.
Both of them.
Because of their work, they often had to bring Peter with them to the lab.
That's where he had met Harry. They had become fast friends.
After Peter's parents died in a plane crash, he had stopped going to Oscorp, but Harry, who already considered him a close friend, would still come to visit whenever he could.
They had never lost touch. Even in high school, when Harry was away at boarding school in England, they had kept in constant contact.
And now, here he was.
Today was Harry's first day at Midtown, and the first thing he'd done was go and find his best friend.
Harry was thrilled to be reunited with his old friend, and even more thrilled that they would be going to school together.
Peter was just as happy. This was the best news he'd had in the two months since his Uncle Ben had passed away.
Yes.
Ben Parker was still dead. He had been killed just a few days into summer vacation. And because of that, New York City had gained a new, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
When Hawk heard the news, he paused for a moment, then offered his condolences.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"It's okay."
Peter managed a small smile.
His Uncle Ben's death had taught him one thing.
With great power comes great responsibility.
So—
These days, whenever he was out there, doing what he did, he could almost feel his uncle by his side. And that made the pain a little easier to bear.
The bus continued on its route.
...
About half an hour later, now packed with students, it pulled into the parking lot of Midtown Tech.
The doors opened, and students began to file off.
"Hey, morning, Gwen."
"Morning, Liz."
"Gwen, long time no see."
"You too."
"Gwen, please tell me we have a homecoming dance."
"We do. It's tradition, Mark."
Gwen was already in the parking lot, leaning against her car. She smiled and greeted her classmates as they got out of their cars or off the buses arriving from all over the city.
Just then.
Hawk, following Peter and the new kid, Harry, stepped off the bus, his backpack slung over one shoulder.
Gwen's eyes lit up.
She was about to walk over to him, but then, in a flash, someone else appeared in front of him.
A girl with a waterfall of long, dark hair.
Jennifer Check. (From Jennifer's Body, played by Megan Fox.)
The captain of the cheerleading squad. Seductive, beautiful, with a pair of captivating, fox-like eyes that drew everyone's attention.
Gwen instinctively stopped, her brow furrowing.
"Hey, Gwen." Mary Jane Watson, who had just gotten out of her own car, walked up and tapped her on the shoulder. "What are you staring at?"
Mary Jane followed Gwen's gaze.
She saw Jennifer, dressed in a revealing outfit that showed off her perfect figure, standing directly in front of Hawk.
"Ugh."
"Jennifer."
"Wow, she really hasn't given up, has she?"
Mary Jane rolled her eyes. "Is she really trying to get the 'Asked Hawk to Every Dance for Four Years, Every Semester' achievement?"
Standing next to her, Gwen's voice was cool. "It's not just every semester."
"Huh?"
Mary Jane looked at her, confused.
Gwen's voice was low and dangerous.
"She asked him to prom in June too. He said no."
"Like he would ever go to a dance anyway," Mary Jane shot back. Then she paused, a look of realization dawning on her face. She turned to look at Gwen.
Gwen didn't say anything. She just narrowed her eyes, her gaze fixed on Hawk—and Jennifer Check, who was now smiling brightly at him.
...
"Hey, Hawk. Happy new semester~"
"You too, Jennifer."
Hawk smiled back at the girl who had materialized in front of him the second he'd stepped off the bus.
He had a pretty good idea of what she wanted.
After all, she did this at the start of every school year, asking the same question.
But he wasn't going to jump the gun.
What if he guessed wrong, and that wasn't what she was here for?
Jennifer fixed him with her captivating gaze. "Hawk, you said no in ninth grade, you said no in tenth grade, and you said no in eleventh grade. This is twelfth grade. Our last year. You can't say no again."
As the captain of the cheer squad, Jennifer had no shortage of admirers.
And she never missed a dance.
But none of her dates had ever been Hawk.
Maybe, back in ninth grade, she had just been drawn to his handsome, brooding loner vibe.
But after he had rejected her that first time, it had become an obsession.
She knew he would probably say no.
But what if? If he said yes, it would be the ultimate validation of her own desirability.
After all, for the past three years, it was a well-known fact that Hawk never, ever went to parties.
Unfortunately for her, there was no "what if—"
Hawk shook his head.
"Jennifer, you know I don't go to dances."
"But if you did, you'd ask me to be your date, right?"
"Yes, if I went... But I'm not going."
"That's all I needed to hear, Hawk."
"Goodbye."
That was the answer Jennifer had been looking for.
What I can't have, no one else can have either...
That was enough. As long as he wasn't going with someone else, her reputation remained intact.
Having gotten what she wanted, Jennifer leaned in, gave Hawk a quick, lingering kiss on the cheek, and then, with a cheerful wave, walked away.
"..." Hawk watched her leave in a whirlwind of perfume and confidence, then shook his head. He turned to Gwen, who was still standing by her car, and started toward her.
Gwen watched him approach, a small, unreadable smile on her face.
"She asked you to the dance?"
"Yep."
"Did you say yes?"
"Nope."
"Oh."
"..."
...
Jennifer Check Image! (Add Here)
--
Hawk and Gwen exchanged a few more words.
Their voices carried no tension, expressions perfectly at ease. They walked side-by-side toward the main hallway, leaving a trail of stunned silence in their wake.
Behind them, Mary Jane's jaw was on the floor.
Holy shit. What the hell did I miss this summer?
Peter was just as dumbfounded.
He felt like he understood what was happening, but at the same time, he felt like he understood nothing at all.
Harry, on the other hand, just saw an opportunity. He turned to Mary Jane, a charming smile on his face.
He remembered her as Peter's neighbor from back before he'd left for the UK. He'd seen her around whenever he came to visit Peter.
He tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hey, Mary Jane. Long time no see."
"...Hey, Harry." Mary Jane turned, gave him a distracted glance, and then immediately looked back at Peter. "Peter, did you know about this?"
Harry froze.
Wait, that's not the right reaction.
Is that how you greet an old friend you haven't seen in years? A little cold, don't you think?
Peter was just as taken aback. He met Mary Jane's intense, searching gaze.
"Know about what?"
"Gwen and Hawk!!"
Mary Jane was practically vibrating with the need to gossip, struggling to keep her voice down. "Aren't you, like, Hawk's only friend at this school? You have to know something. When did this happen?"
Peter was completely lost.
"Since when am I Hawk's onl—"
"Ugh, forget it. You're useless."
Mary Jane, frustrated by his cluelessness, gave up. She was going to get the scoop, one way or another.
The next second, her face lit up.
"Oh my God!" Mary Jane shrieked as recognition finally dawned. She rushed over and threw her arms around the still-gloomy Harry. "Harry! When did you get back?"
Harry's face lit up.
He smiled as she pulled away, ready to catch up. But Mary Jane just gave him another quick hug. "I have to go right now, I'll talk to you later, bye!"
Clearly, at this moment, catching up with an old friend from overseas was nowhere near as important as getting the dirt on her best friend and the school's number one ice king.
With that, Mary Jane spun around and took off at a jog, chasing after Gwen, who was about to disappear into the lounge.
Obviously, she wasn't about to go interrogate Hawk.
And so—
For the rest of the morning, Mary Jane followed Gwen around like a lost puppy.
Her plea was simple and relentless.
"Please, just tell me. A little more. The details. I'm begging you, Gwen."
"..."
Since it was the first day of the new semester, the schedule was relaxed. No actual classes.
Students were busy picking up their new schedules or meeting with their guidance counselors for last-minute advice.
Which meant Gwen was stuck dealing with Mary Jane's relentless pestering all morning.
Finally. On their way to the cafeteria, Gwen looked at her friend, who was still giving her the most pathetic, desperate puppy-dog eyes, and she broke.
Gwen sighed.
"Seriously, is it really that weird that Hawk and I are together?"
"Yes!"
"Why? We've sat next to each other in physics since ninth grade. We have the same counselor."
"Gwen, please. It's Hawk!!"
"So?"
"You really don't know what people say about him?"
"What?"
Now it was Gwen's turn to be curious.
Mary Jane looked around, then lowered her voice. "Everyone says he's either a complete, hopeless straight arrow, or he's... you know... gay."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "That's ridiculous."
An image flashed in her mind—of Hawk, at the waterfall in Maryland, standing in the water wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.
Gay?
He's straight as a nightstick.
Wait...
What am I thinking?
Gwen shook her head, mentally batting away the image of the police baton. She looked at Mary Jane, her expression serious. "He's not gay."
Mary Jane paused, then a sly, knowing look crossed her face. She wiggled her eyebrows.
"So, I take it you've... sampled the goods?"
"..." Gwen froze. She looked at Mary Jane's lewd, knowing smirk and took a deep breath.
The next second, she turned and walked away without another word.
Her mind is in the gutter.
Mary Jane watched her walk away, then hurried to catch up.
"I'm sorry, Gwen! Forgive me!"
...
By the time Hawk got to the cafeteria, Mary Jane was still trying to pry information out of Gwen.
But Gwen was ignoring her completely.
Finally, seeing that she wasn't getting anywhere, Mary Jane sighed, then spotted Harry walking in with Peter. Her eyes lit up. "Fine. If you won't tell me, I'll just ask Peter."
With that, she grabbed her tray and, before Gwen could stop her, ran over to their table.
By the time Hawk sat down with his tray across from Gwen, Mary Jane was already gone.
"Mary Jane done eating already?"
"Apparently, she figured she wasn't going to get any gossip out of me, so she went to interrogate Peter."
Gwen glanced over at Mary Jane, who was now pulling up a chair at Peter's table, and shook her head in exasperation.
Hawk looked confused. "What does Peter have to do with anything?"
Gwen shrugged.
"Probably because you two were seen together in the old gym last semester. Now everyone thinks he's your friend."
"...Right."
Hawk just laughed. He didn't bother to correct her. He just picked up his burger and started eating.
Gwen had already finished her lunch. She sat with her arms folded on the table, watching him.
"By the way, did you call Dr. Connors to thank him?"
"Yeah, I did."
Hawk nodded, swallowing a bite of his burger. "He said he had some kind of breakthrough with his experiment. He sounded really happy."
Gwen blinked. "A breakthrough?"
"No way..."
"..."
--
"What's wrong?"
"You know I was at the lab yesterday morning, right?"
"Yeah."
Hawk nodded. It had been right before they'd gone to the library. He had assumed she was just there to clear her summer work schedule with Dr. Connors.
But now?
"Is there a problem with the experiment?"
"Not with the experiment, but with the investors. You know Dr. Connors's project is a joint venture between Oscorp and the military, right?"
"You mentioned that."
"The military pulled their funding."
Gwen leaned in, lowering her voice. "And his research has been going on for almost two years with no results. The board at Oscorp is starting to get impatient."
Capital is a fickle beast.
It will back you, fund you, and give you everything you need based on the promises you make.
But if you fail to deliver the expected results, they will abandon you without a second thought.
Cutting losses is the first lesson in the corporate playbook.
And Dr. Connors's regeneration project was a prime example.
To make matters worse, the military had already pulled out last month, citing budget cuts.
They had said it was temporary, that they would reinvest once the next fiscal year's budget was approved, and had told Oscorp to just hold on.
But—
Things at Oscorp weren't exactly stable either.
Rumor was that Norman Osborn, who had been secluded in his mansion for the past year battling a mysterious illness, was on his last legs. His time was running out.
And it wasn't just an empty rumor.
The fact that Harry Osborn had returned from the UK this summer and was now being integrated into the company's affairs—with the help of Norman's own executive assistant, Felicia Hardy—was a clear signal.
The Osborn family might hold a majority stake in the company, but in this era of a dying king and a rising prince, there were always those looking to profit from the chaos of a changing of the guard.
And a new king always lights a few fires to announce his reign.
So, someone had proposed "streamlining" the research division, cutting any labs that weren't producing profitable results.
Dr. Connors's lab was first on the chopping block.
The military might have promised to restore funding once the Pentagon's next budget was approved, but who could guarantee that?
The Department of Defense wasn't exactly known for its reliability.
...
"They've downsized the lab."
"They laid off five researchers."
"And I was supposed to be on that list."
"I saw Dr. Connors at the lab, and he didn't seem happy. That's why I was so surprised when you said he sounded excited on the phone."
Gwen finished explaining the situation.
Hawk wasn't really invested in whether the experiment succeeded or not. He just listened, and when she was done, he shrugged. "Well, that's what he said on the phone. Who knows if it'll actually work."
Gwen nodded. "I hope it does."
The two of them continued their small talk.
But the conversation was over as quickly as it had begun. After Hawk finished his burger, they both stood up and cleared their trays.
The subject of Dr. Connors's lab was closed.
Others could move on, but Dr. Connors himself could not—
...
—Because at that very moment, Dr. Connors was living the reality of being abandoned by his investors.
He stared at the man standing in his office, the man who had just delivered the board's latest decision.
"Have you made your decision, Doctor?"
"I don't understand."
"Doctor, I think you do."
The man, a handsome, middle-aged executive in a tailored suit, smiled a warm, friendly smile. "The military has pulled its funding. They used the word 'temporarily,' but we both know what that means... The board's initial recommendation was to suspend all funding to your lab. But, Doctor, your latest results have bought you a reprieve. But only a reprieve."
Dr. Connors's latest breakthrough—a single lab mouse that had successfully regenerated a limb—had given the board a glimmer of hope.
But only a glimmer.
Dr. Connors frowned.
"So what is the board's decision?"
"Human trials."
"WHAT??"
Dr. Connors's eyes went wide. "I have only just extracted a potentially viable serum from that one mutated mouse. It hasn't even been properly tested yet. To move to human trials now is reckless. Besides, where would we even find volunteers?"
The executive shrugged. "The military hospitals are full of potential subjects. We'll just tell them it's a new vaccine."
He said it so casually...
After all, it was standard procedure.
Running human trials overseas cost money. But if you used your own underclass for experiments, you didn't have to pay them a dime.
Bottom line:
Are the poor even people?
No...
Capital chases profit. It demands maximum return for minimum cost.
But Dr. Connors was horrified. "I won't do it."
"Time is not on our side, Doctor. You're running out of it. We all are."
"...We?"
"You don't need to know the details. You just need to know that the board is doing this for your own good. We'll have someone else handle the... logistics. If it fails, you can just plead ignorance."
"I'm not here to negotiate with you, Doctor."
"This is a notification."
With that, the executive turned and walked out of Dr. Connors's lab.
The rumor among the higher-ups was that Norman Osborn didn't have long. And Connors's regeneration project had been started for one reason: to find a cure for Norman's illness.
The executive hadn't been lying. By pushing for human trials, they weren't just helping Dr. Connors; they were helping themselves.
After all, a new king means a new court.
Who knew what Harry Osborn would do once he took over?
Everyone knows capitalism craves stability. Only in a stable environment can it reliably generate profit.
But Dr. Connors was not a capitalist. He was a scientist.
After the executive left, he sat down heavily in his office chair.
And he didn't move for a very long time...
--
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Dr. Connors's eyes.
He sat motionless in his office chair, his face calm and composed, while inside a storm raged.
One part of him was desperate to proceed with the human trials.
This was his life's work. What was the point of all the research if not to benefit humanity, to ensure no one would ever have to suffer from a debilitating injury again?
But the other part, the rational scientist, knew the truth: the regeneration serum was still unstable.
To date, only one test subject—a single white mouse—had achieved the miraculous results he dreamed of after being injected.
And that was the crux of the problem.
They didn't know why it had worked.
Yes, they had succeeded. But they couldn't replicate the success because they couldn't identify the variable that had made it possible.
Medicine is a discipline of precision. It leaves no room for error.
Especially when it comes to human trials. You don't proceed when you have a single question, let alone a complete mystery. Every doubt must be resolved.
So—
Emotionally, no one wanted this to succeed more than he did.
But logically, he knew that what the board was proposing was nothing short of monstrous. They were asking him to gamble with the lives of wounded soldiers.
An angel and a devil materialized on his shoulders.
The angel warned him that this was wrong, that if something went horribly awry, he would never be able to forgive himself.
But the devil whispered that scientific progress demanded sacrifice. If this worked, his legacy would be eternal. He would save millions.
"..." Dr. Connors sat in his office, unmoving.
The afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face.
He sat there for hours, long after the sun had set and the city had gone dark.
A text message chimed on his phone, jolting him from his trance.
He grabbed the device and opened the new text message.
It read:
Doctor. I'm on my way to the hospital now. We believe in you.
He read the words, and his focus dissolved.
The next second, he shot to his feet.
A new, terrible resolve had taken hold. He strode out of his office, his face set in grim determination.
The security camera in the corner of the lab watched silently.
Its red light blinked rhythmically.
With a soft chime, the lab's 'Bio-Engineering Splicer' powered on. Dr. Connors removed a vial of green-hued serum.
I may not be an angel... but I will not be a devil.
Dr. Connors stared at the vial in his hand—a fusion of the mutated serum extracted from that one successful mouse and the core reptilian DNA—and muttered the words to himself. His eyes hardened. He took the vial and sat down.
A moment later.
Sitting on the stool, Dr. Connors looked at the syringe in his hand. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then, without another moment of hesitation, plunged the needle into the stump of his right arm—the arm he had lost in an accident years ago. He pushed the plunger all the way down.
The instant he pulled the needle out, a wave of vertigo slammed into him without warning.
Thud.
Dr. Connors collapsed forward onto the lab table.
At the same time, beneath the skin of his right stump, something began to stir, writhing as if it were trying to claw its way out.
...
Manhattan, the Goring Building.
"Was that a bug?"
"No, a tiny lizard." Gwen, who had finished dinner and was back in her room, was on the phone with Hawk, telling him a funny story about how her eight-year-old brother had just been terrified by a lizard that had crawled in from somewhere.
Hawk listened to her laugh. "You're not scared of them?"
"Hawk," Gwen said, her voice mock-serious. "Have you forgotten? My entire summer internship was based on lizards. Our lab has more of them than it has lab rats."
She was no damsel in distress. She was a scientist who could draw blood from a lizard without blinking and dissect a mouse without hesitation.
"Right," Hawk chuckled.
Gwen laughed with him, then changed the subject. "So, what about you? Have you eaten yet?"
"Not yet."
Hawk looked at the bucket of fried chicken he'd just bought. "I was about to go up to the roof and train. I'll eat after."
The old gym had been torn down to make way for the new swimming pool. And the new gym was always packed, especially now at the start of the semester with all the new freshmen.
So Hawk had decided to just train on his rooftop at night, then eat, shower, and sleep.
Gwen listened to his plan, then a thought occurred to her.
"Hawk, can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Why do you still train every day? You're already so strong."
As she spoke, an image flashed in her mind: Hawk, standing in the pool at the base of the waterfall, his body radiating a palpable heat.
The inverted waterfall.
She still didn't know for sure if he had been the one to do that.
But she had no doubt that he could kill a bear with a single punch.
She had seen it with her own eyes. That day, after she had found him, as they were hiking out of the forest, a bear had charged them. Hawk had killed it with one blow. The memory of it, the sheer, brutal power, still sent a shiver down her spine.
As Gwen was lost in thought, Hawk considered her question.
"Why do I still train?"
"To—"
He paused. An image flashed in his own mind.
"—To protect myself. And the people I care about."
"Does that include me?"
Gwen's voice was soft, but clear.
Ever since that day, ever since she had forced him to take her phone and he hadn't refused, she felt like she had finally cracked the code, finally figured out how to talk to him.
Hawk was taken aback by her directness.
A small laugh escaped him, and then he nodded, his voice firm.
"Of course."
"..."
--
Hawk's answer was immediate. No hesitation.
Gwen was clearly happy with his answer, the sound of her voice became lighter, more cheerful.
A little while later, the new couple finally finished their call, reluctantly hanging up.
It was mostly Gwen who was reluctant to hang up.
Hawk was... well, alright. He was a little reluctant too.
But Hawk understood why, despite having a crush on Gwen since freshman year, he had waited until now to finally acknowledge it.
In a word:
Before, he hadn't been worthy. Now, he was.
Whether it was to keep getting stronger, or just to hold on to the feeling of being worthy, Hawk knew he couldn't afford to get complacent. He had to work even harder than before.
He might be strong now, but if he slacked off, how long would it last?
A year? Two or three?
The curtain on the Marvel Universe had been raised. Hawk didn't just feel a lack of desire to relax, he felt a pressing, urgent need to push forward.
So, after he hung up with Gwen, he began his ten-thousand-punch routine for the day.
At this point, hitting a heavy bag was pointless.
But he wasn't really hitting the bag. He was using the repetitive, meditative motion to quiet his mind, to find a stillness in which he could search for that elusive Sixth Sense—the one he knew was there, but could never seem to grasp.
...
On the rooftop of his apartment building.
The heavy bag, hanging from a clothesline pole, swayed gently with each of Hawk's punches.
Hawk's eyes were unfocused, his mind adrift, feeling as if he were searching for a single grain of rice in an infinite, starless void.
Until—
He heard it. Faint, distant screams.
His focus snapped back to reality. He turned, his eyes automatically locking onto the source of the sound: the Williamsburg Bridge.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Space itself seemed to contract before his eyes. In the blink of an eye, Hawk, standing several miles away, could see the scene unfolding on the Williamsburg Bridge with perfect clarity.
The Williamsburg Bridge, connecting Manhattan and Brooklyn, was a major artery.
Every day, thousands of people crossed it to get to their jobs in the city and back to their homes in the outer boroughs.
Except now, something had gone terribly wrong.
Countless white-collar workers, their cars trapped in a massive traffic jam, were now running for their lives, their screams mixing with the sound of cars being overturned behind them.
And then Hawk saw it.
A massive, hulking creature, covered in grayish-green scales, with the head of a lizard, was leaping from car to car.
As it moved, its long, powerful tail whipped out, grabbing cars and flinging them into the air as if they were toys.
It seemed to be looking for something.
"Is that..."
"The Lizard?"
Hawk's brow furrowed.
And then, another thought hit him.
Well, shit. There goes my letter of recommendation.
NYU might accept a letter of recommendation from a respected scientist like Dr. Connors, but they sure as hell weren't going to accept one from the Lizard.
In the span of a few seconds, the letter of recommendation in his apartment had gone from a priceless asset to a worthless piece of paper.
Not even the stock market crashed that hard.
Soon.
The Lizard, making its grand debut on the bridge, seemed to have found what it was looking for.
Its tail shot out and snatched a man in a business suit from his car.
The middle-aged man, clutching a briefcase that likely contained the serum meant for the military hospital, trembled as the Lizard's cold, green eyes stared him down.
He managed to stammer out a single word.
"You—"
"Aaargh!"
SQUELCH!
Before the man could finish his sentence, the Lizard swiped the briefcase from his hands. With a flick of its tail, it sent the man flying into the bridge's guardrail.
The next second.
A support cable caught the man at the waist, slicing him in two. His bisected body rained blood as it tumbled into the river below.
But just then.
Spider-Man...
No—
The Spider made his grand entrance.
Swinging on a web line, Peter Parker maneuvered his body in mid-air, brought his feet together, and shot forward like a cannonball, slamming into the Lizard just as it was about to turn and leave.
The Lizard staggered from the impact. It regained its footing, turned, and let out a guttural roar at Peter, who was now crouched atop a car, his green tongue lashing through the air.
Peter shot a web, snagging the briefcase.
The Lizard roared with rage and began to hurl cars at him.
The battle between the Spider and the Lizard had begun.
...
Standing on his rooftop, Hawk watched, thoroughly entertained.
But then, he remembered something. He turned back to his heavy bag, his body becoming a blur as a storm of phantom fists rained down upon it.
Thirty seconds later. His ten-thousand punches for the day were complete. He let out a breath, then turned back to the bridge, ready to enjoy the show.
However...
"Where's the Lizard?"
"Where's the Spider?"
"Where did they go?"
Hawk stared at the now-empty bridge, confused.
Then he noticed a disturbance in the water below.
Beneath the surface, a dark shadow was moving with incredible speed.
Peter, swinging through the city in pursuit, finally lost track of the Lizard somewhere near Roosevelt Island.
It was too dark, and the Lizard was simply too fast underwater.
Peter came to a stop on the roof of a skyscraper, shaking his head as he stared at the spot where he'd lost the trail.
Just as he was about to head home, his Spider-Sense tingled. He moved to the edge of the roof.
And saw him.
Standing on the roof of a ten-story building not far away.
Hawk.
He smiled and gave the crouching figure of Spider-Man a little wave.
--
With a single, graceful swing, Peter landed squarely on the rooftop of Hawk's apartment building.
"Whoa, Spider—"
Hawk, who had been about to speak, stopped short as the hero ripped off his mask, revealing his true face. A look of mock surprise crossed Hawk's features.
"Peter?"
Peter just gave him a shy smile. He finally understood what Gwen had been talking about. "Hawk... you're a terrible actor."
"Am I?"
Hawk blinked, then saw the dead-serious nod from Peter and just shrugged. "Alright, I'll work on it."
If one person says you're a bad actor, it might just be their opinion. But if two people say it...
Hawk made a mental note to practice his surprised face in the mirror.
Peter chuckled, then his expression turned serious as he brought up their recent encounter. "So, did you see what happened back there?"
"Parts of it. But by the time I got a good look, you and that lizard guy were already gone."
Hawk was telling the truth.
No big deal. It would be all over the news tomorrow.
Everyone knew how fast the New York media worked. Less than three minutes after the Lizard had first appeared on the Williamsburg Bridge, Hawk had already counted three different news helicopters circling overhead.
"...." Peter's eyes widened at Hawk's words. He glanced around, then looked toward the Williamsburg Bridge, which was barely a speck in the distance.
From this far away??
Peter looked back at Hawk, his expression one of pure shock.
Hawk just smiled. "My eyesight's pretty good. But then again, so is yours."
Peter nodded slowly. It was true. If he really focused, he could probably make out the details on the bridge from here.
A thought suddenly struck him. "Then did you see where he went?"
"Nope."
"Damn." Peter sighed. "I didn't expect him to be so strong. He just threw me off. By the time I recovered, he had already jumped into the river."
Hawk's curiosity was piqued. "What's your take on him? Power-wise."
Peter looked at Hawk, thought for a moment, and then frowned. "He's stronger than me, but not as fast or agile. But in the water... he's way faster."
Got it.
One-punch material...
I wouldn't even need to burn my Cosmo.
Hawk processed Peter's assessment, gave a slight nod, and was about to head back inside.
But then, Peter seemed to remember something and said to Hawk, "Actually, that lizard felt familiar somehow. I was trying to figure out what that feeling was when he threw me..."
Hawk paused and looked at Peter.
"And did you figure it out?"
"Yeah."
Peter nodded, then just stared at Hawk.
Hawk waited, but when Peter didn't continue, it finally clicked. "You're saying me??"
"Yeah."
"That's impossible..." The idea was absurd. How could the Lizard have his "scent" on him? He had only been to Dr. Connors's lab once.
And even if some trace had been left behind from a handshake, that was over two months ago. There was no way it would still be there.
He wasn't a goddess, and Dr. Connors wasn't some simp who'd refuse to wash his hand for a month after shaking mine.
But Peter was insistent. "The last time I was this close to you was in the old gym. I remember your presence... your scent or whatever. It's distinct. The trace on that lizard creature was faint, almost unnoticeable. If it wasn't, I wouldn't have taken so long to place it."
Hawk frowned. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
Peter nodded, then thought again. "It was like he had been in contact with you, so a trace of you was left on him. Kind of like how Gwen has a trace of your presence on her, but the one on Gwen is way, way stronger."
That description cleared everything up.
He had been wondering what Peter was getting at.
So that was it.
Hawk let out a small laugh. "Okay. In that case, I think I know who he is."
Peter's eyes went wide. "Who?"
"Dr. Curt Connors. He's the head of the regeneration lab at Oscorp. Gwen was just there yesterday. And his entire research is based on lizard DNA."
If Peter had just said the Lizard smelled like him, he would have been stumped.
But using Gwen as a comparison was the key.
If his own presence was as a "1," then Gwen, who spent so much time with him, would probably carry around a '0.5.' And since Gwen worked at Oscorp, that would explain how such a faint trace ended up there.
Peter's jaw dropped as Hawk revealed the Lizard's identity. "It's him?"
"You know him?"
"Yeah, I think I met him once with my dad, a long time ago."
"Right."
Now that the mystery of the lingering trace was solved, Hawk was completely at ease. He let out a yawn.
"Well, it's getting late. I'm going to bed."
"...Okay."
Peter had wanted to discuss the threat the Lizard posed, but seeing Hawk's dismissive attitude, he let it go. "Goodnight, Hawk."
"Goodnight, Spider."
"Uh, I'm not a spider."
"You sure?" Hawk, who had already started to walk away, turned back, a playful, smartass grin on his face. "Go on. Tell me where the webs come from."
Peter's mouth opened, then closed. His expression turned serious. "Goodnight, Hawk."
"Goodnight, Peter."
Hawk didn't tease him any further.
...
A moment later, Peter was gone, swinging off into the night.
Hawk went back inside, finished his fried chicken, took a cold shower, and collapsed into bed.
Meanwhile, deep beneath the streets of Queens, in the labyrinthine network of sewer tunnels that served as a winter home for the city's homeless, a sound echoed.
A primal, bestial roar echoed from the darkness. Gradually, the roars grew weaker.
Until finally.
The roaring stopped.
And in its place, a human groan of agony could be heard.
--
Unsurprisingly, the next day, the lizard monster from the Williamsburg Bridge was the only thing anyone was talking about.
"Holy shit, did you guys see the news this morning?"
"Yeah. Thank God I live in Queens. My family could never afford a place in Brooklyn or Manhattan."
"You know, I'm starting to think we should all just leave New York after graduation."
"Why?"
"Think about it. A few years ago, it was the Hulk and the Abomination. Last year, that Stark Expo disaster. This year, we get aliens. And now, before the year's even over, we've got a giant lizard monster."
"Damn..."
"He's got a point. What the hell is wrong with New York these days?"
"It's been cursed ever since 9/11, man."
"Okay, but am I the only one who wants to know how that Spider-Man guy does the web thing?"
"..."
Sitting in the back of the bus, Hawk heard the quiet question and raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Peter sitting next to him.
See?
Peter felt the teasing look and just sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."
Hawk just shrugged, then smoothly changed the subject, glancing at the empty seats around them. "Where's Harry? He's not riding with you today?"
"He had to go to Oscorp this morning. Said there was a break-in last night."
Peter lowered his voice, scanning the other students on the bus. "I asked him about it. It was Dr. Connors's lab that got hit. He said the lizard guy cleaned the place out, took all the equipment."
Hawk nodded. "I'm surprised New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man wasn't on the scene."
Peter's jaw tightened. "Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man needs to sleep."
He was suddenly very grateful for the mask.
Look at this... The one person who knew his secret, a guy who was just as introverted as he was—was already dissing him.
Imagine if anyone else found out.
Besides, he was trying to do good. Uncle Ben would be proud of him.
With great power comes great responsibility.
But—
Even with great power, you still need to sleep. Even actual spiders needed to rest every now and then.
He couldn't be on patrol twenty-four-seven.
Peter pushed the thought aside and leaned in, continuing their conversation from the night before in a low whisper. "So, what do you think Connors is trying to do?"
"Don't know. Don't care. Not my problem."
Hawk replied with a dismissive three-part combo.
Peter watched as Hawk, having said his piece, returned to his usual stoic silence, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery. He opened his mouth to say more, but then closed it.
He wasn't about to ask Hawk to join him on his crusade.
Just because it was his passion didn't mean it had to be anyone else's. Peter understood that much.
...
At school, the buzz about the Lizard was even more intense.
Gossip and rumors flew through the halls, fueled by the overactive hormones of a thousand teenagers.
At lunch, Hawk, who had gotten his usual burger and Coke, was just starting to eat when Gwen, late from class, sat down across from him.
"Just got the news. I don't have to go in to Oscorp for a while. Dr. Connors's lab was robbed by the lizard-man, and Dr. Connors himself is missing."
"Uh..."
Hawk looked up. He thought for a moment, then leaned in, his voice low. "It wasn't some lizard-man who robbed the lab, Gwen. It was Connors."
He had been planning to tell her this morning. But Mary Jane had been with her, and Hawk hadn't wanted to say anything in front of her.
Now was as good a time as any.
"..." Gwen's eyes went wide. She gasped, her chest rising and falling in a sudden, sharp breath.
She quickly remembered they were in the crowded cafeteria and kept her voice down, her eyes wide as she stared at Hawk, who had already gone back to eating his burger.
"What? Dr. Connors is... Are you serious?"
"Ninety-nine percent sure. Spider-Man said the Lizard had my scent on him, but it was faint."
"Spider-Man?"
"Yep." Hawk nodded casually.
Gwen stared at him, her mind reeling. If her eyes could have gotten any wider, they would have. "You know Spider-Man?"
"Yes."
"Who is he?"
"Can't say." Hawk shook his head. He wasn't about to give up Peter's secret.
Telling Gwen about Connors was one thing. The Lizard was a direct threat to her. But Peter was different.
Especially this version of Peter, the original one. The one whose idea of "going dark" was getting a bad haircut, asking for a raise—and putting some dirt in his rival's eye.
Besides, Peter hadn't told anyone about his powers.
So, he was going to return the favor.
...
Hawk met Gwen's unblinking stare with a small smile. "You can stare at me all you want. I'm not going to tell you."
Gwen finally looked away.
Fine. I'll just figure it out myself.
Again, she knew Hawk's social circle was practically non-existent. If Hawk knew Spider-Man, chances are, she knew him too.
She was confident she could solve this.
As her mind began to race through a list of potential candidates, she leaned in again, her voice a whisper.
"But... how did Dr. Connors become that... thing?"
Hawk shook his head. "Only God knows. The last time I talked to him, he told me his regeneration serum had worked on a mouse."
He only bothered to think about it because it was Gwen asking.
If it had been Peter, he wouldn't have wasted the brain cells.
Even if the Lizard tore New York City in half, it wasn't his problem. There were other people who would be far more concerned about it than him.
He looked up and saw Gwen's eyes go wide with a new, dawning horror.
--
"What did you just say?"
"Uh, I don't know?"
"No, you just said the experiment succeeded with what?"
"A mouse with a severed tail. Didn't I tell you about that last time?" Hawk frowned, looking at Gwen's stunned expression. "What's wrong?"
Gwen didn't answer. Her brow was furrowed in thought.
A successful experiment.
A mouse with a severed tail.
For some reason, an image flashed in Gwen's mind: two months ago, after the lab accident, a small white mouse had escaped its cage and licked up the drops of blood Hawk had left on the floor.
If her memory served her correctly...
That mouse was missing its tail!
Hiss.
Gwen drew in a sharp breath. She glanced at Hawk, then pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed a number.
Sitting across from her, Hawk's eyebrows shot up.
A moment later, the call connected.
"Hello, Elsa."
"Gwen? Are you calling to ask what happened? I'm sorry, the company made us all sign NDAs."
"No, that's not it, Elsa. I wanted to ask... the Doctor's successful experiment, was it on a mouse with a severed tail?"
"Uh... yeah, it was."
Elsa, who was still at Oscorp having just signed her non-disclosure agreement, nodded on the other end of the line. "But you can't really call it a success. It only worked that one time. We've been trying to replicate it ever since, but we keep failing."
Gwen pressed on, her voice urgent.
"Was it the mouse that escaped its cage that day?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
I knew it.
Gwen thought to herself. She exchanged a few more pleasantries with Elsa and then hung up.
Hawk watched her, his curiosity piqued. "Was there something special about that mouse?"
Gwen put her phone away and looked at Hawk.
She considered her words carefully.
"Do you remember the accident in the lab?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"Your hand was injured. You were bleeding, right?"
"No."
Hawk shook his head without hesitation.
Gwen said nothing. She just stared at him.
Hawk met her gaze, held it for a moment, and then sighed. "Okay, fine. Let's say I was bleeding. Go on."
Gwen's stare was intense.
"The drops of blood you left on the floor... that mouse licked them up."
"..." Hawk's brow furrowed as he looked at Gwen.
Gwen looked right back at him.
Their eyes locked.
Hawk broke the gaze first, drawing in a slow breath. "You think the successful test subject... was the same mouse you saw that day?"
Gwen shrugged. "It's the only variable. Otherwise, why would the Doctor run so many animal trials, with only that one mouse surviving?"
She didn't understand the connection, not really.
But—
In her mind's eye, she saw it again: the image of a waterfall in the deep Maryland woods, raging in reverse, defying gravity.
And Hawk, standing at the center of it all, the cause of the impossible.
Hawk remained silent. He quietly set down the large soda cup he'd been holding and folded his hands on the table, leaning forward slightly.
He thought about what Peter had told him on the rooftop last night.
The Lizard has your scent...
At the time, Hawk had assumed it was just because Gwen had been near Dr. Connors.
But now, it seemed he was wrong.
The lab accident... he'd bled.
The escaped mouse with the severed tail had ingested his blood and become the sole survivor of an experiment that had killed every other subject.
Dr. Connors had then used that mouse to create a new serum.
And then...
Dr. Connors became the Lizard.
Hawk frowned, staring at Gwen, who was watching him with an unblinking gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, then just shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face.
"My blood can't be that special, can it?"
"There's one way to find out."
"What?"
"The School's Stark Hall has a blood analyzer. We could get the results in half an hour."
"..."
Stark Hall was the nickname for the School's Building Three, the experimental science wing donated by Howard Stark. Most of the equipment inside was state-of-the-art, also donated by Stark Industries.
That included the fully automated, rapid blood analysis machine—a device that looked like it cost a hundred thousand dollars but was actually worth over a million, complete with a gleaming Stark logo.
Hawk stuck his finger in his mouth. When he pulled it out, the small pinprick had already healed over.
Gwen had already booted up the machine.
It whirred to life.
As they waited, Gwen turned to him, her curiosity finally getting the better of her. "Are you... a mutant? Like Dr. Banner?"
She had wanted to ask for a long time. But she'd never had the chance.
Hawk met her curious gaze and let out a short, incredulous laugh. He shook his head. "I can guarantee you, I am one hundred percent, pure human."
He had just awakened his Cosmo...
That's all.
A mutant? He would never admit to that.
Mutation was a crutch for the weak.
He was strong because he had made himself strong. He had earned his power through a thousand days of relentless, back-breaking effort.
The sweat from a thousand days of ten thousand punches had finally watered the flower of his potential.
Hawk paused for a moment, then looked at Gwen and added, "I'm definitely not a mutant like the Spider-freak. And don't lump me in with Bruce Banner."
"..."
Gwen's eyes lit up, seizing on the key part of his statement. "The Spider-freak... you mean Spider-Man? He's a mutant, too?"
Hawk just blinked, then raised a hand to his mouth and mimed zipping his lips.
"My lips are sealed, Gwen."
"Fine, don't tell me. I'll figure it out myself."
Gwen rolled her eyes.
Just then.
Beep, beep, beep!
The half-hour analysis was complete. The machine chimed, signaling it was finished.
Gwen hurried over and took the printout from the machine.
Hawk leaned over her shoulder to look.
He saw it immediately.
Red blood cell count, white blood cell count, platelet count... every value was completely off the charts.
Hawk blinked.
The results... were about what he'd expected. The path of the Saint was the path of perfecting the self.
Gwen scanned the report, then took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Hawk... do you have any idea what would happen if the outside world ever found out about this?"
Hawk just smiled. He looked her straight in the eye. "Gwen."
"No one else is going to get a sample of my blood that easily."
"..."
--
Why had Hawk worked so hard to become this strong?
Wasn't it for this? The power to control his own destiny.
And now, some random guy thinks they can just take his blood?
Heh. In their dreams...
That had been Gwen. If it had been anyone else, Hawk would have blasted their head clean off their shoulders the instant the needle came near.
But Gwen ignored Hawk's quip. Her eyes were glued to the analysis report that had just printed out.
Others might not have been able to make sense of it, but she could.
And because she could, she drew in a sharp, astonished breath.
Hawk's blood work was completely off the charts.
His white blood cell count was maxed out on the machine's display, which meant the real number was probably even higher.
And that meant one thing: Hawk's immune system was terrifyingly powerful and efficient. It could likely identify and eradicate any foreign invader—viruses, bacteria, parasites—almost instantly.
It also explained his incredible Healing Factor.
Gwen thought back to the day of the lab accident, how she had seen Hawk's hand bleeding, only for the wound to vanish moments later.
And the other metrics...
To put it simply:
If Gwen hadn't drawn the blood from Hawk's finger herself, she would have assumed the data was fabricated.
These were not the numbers of a human being!
"I saw Captain America's blood analysis once, leaked online." she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"Hawk..."
"Your numbers are even more insane than his. Did you... did you take the Super Soldier Serum?"
Gwen looked up at him. Having ruled out mutation, it was the only other logical explanation.
But, unfortunately for her theory...
Hawk just shrugged.
"Nope."
"Okay then." Gwen didn't press. She decisively took the report, tore it into tiny pieces, and then began to methodically wipe down the entire machine, inside and out. She rinsed the test vial under running water three times, then took the soaking, pulpy shreds of paper and buried them at the bottom of the trash can.
She was making absolutely sure that no trace of the report or the blood sample could ever be found.
Hawk watched her work, a small smile playing on his lips.
"A little paranoid, aren't we, Gwen?"
"Not paranoid enough."
Gwen's expression was dead serious. "If anyone ever saw these numbers, Hawk, I have no doubt that they would put you on a dissection table."
Hawk's eyebrow arched. "That's assuming they could catch me."
They were welcome to try.
Because Hawk wouldn't mind turning their "try" into a "die."
He had already crossed that line.
Killing wasn't a question of 'if' for him anymore. It was only a question of 'how many'.
But Hawk's confidence didn't seem to reassure Gwen. Her expression remained grave. "Hawk..."
"Yeah?"
"Never, ever let anyone else get a sample of your blood."
"...Alright." Seeing the genuine fear and concern in her eyes, Hawk relented and nodded.
The stern look on Gwen's face softened slightly. As they started walking out of the lab, she changed the subject. "So, what now?"
"About what?"
"About Dr. Connors."
"Not our problem." Hawk shrugged. "We didn't cause him to turn into a giant lizard. For all we know, he's already halfway to Mexico by now."
Gwen considered it, then nodded. "That's possible."
"Let's drop it. What class do you have this afternoon?"
"French. You?"
"Geography."
The two of them walked out of the Stark Industries research building, chatting about their schedules.
...
And just like that, three days passed.
The media frenzy over the "Lizard Monster" had started to die down.
After that one appearance on the Williamsburg Bridge, the creature hadn't been seen again.
The general consensus was that it had either been secretly captured by the military or had fled the city.
New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man thought so, too.
But In reality, the Lizard had never left.
At this very moment, he was holed up in a maintenance tunnel just five blocks from Midtown Tech.
The New York City sewer system had service platforms at regular intervals.
The Lizard had made one of them his temporary lair.
But right now, he was no longer the Lizard. He was just Dr. Connors again.
Yet, after experiencing what it was like to be whole, to be immensely powerful—a hulking, monstrous beast—how could he be content to revert to a frail, crippled man once the dose wore off?
Maybe, at first, his only intention had been to stop the board of directors from experimenting on those poor, wounded soldiers.
But now, Dr. Connors had seen the light.
Being human was fine. But being the Lizard... being stronger, faster, and more powerful than any human... that was true freedom.
And so, Dr. Connors made a decision.
He wasn't going to be a man anymore. He was going to be the Lizard. Permanently.
To do that, he first needed to figure out why that one mouse had been a success.
For three days, he had been re-watching the security footage from his lab.
And finally...
As the hypnotic, low-frequency hum of the sewer's power conduits buzzed in his ears, Dr. Connors, covered in sweat and grime, saw it. His eyes widened as he froze the frame on his laptop screen.
On the screen was the mouse, licking a drop of blood from the floor.
Connors frantically rewound the footage. He found the moment. It was right after Hawk had pulled his hand away from Gwen.
"HAWK!"
"IT WAS HIM!"
A tremor ran through Dr. Connors's body—not of fear, but of manic excitement.
He had been on good terms with the boy. He had given him a letter of recommendation. Surely, if he just called and asked, Hawk would give him a small sample of his blood for research.
That was his first thought. That was what he would do.
But just as he reached for his phone, a voice... a voice that was both inside his head and echoing in the darkness around him—hissed into his thoughts.
"No. He will never give it to you. A man with blood that powerful would never share it."
"..." Dr. Connors's eyes glazed over as the whisper slithered through his mind. "Yes... he'll never give it to me... he would never... what do I do?"
"Gwen—"
"Take the girl. She is his weakness. Take the girl, and force him to give you the blood!"
"You're right, take Gwen, force him!" Dr. Connors's eyes now completely vacant, He muttered the words to himself as his hand closed around the three remaining vials of the regeneration serum.