Midtown High School, lunch time.
Peter Parker sat across from Alice Mason with his food tray.
He looked refreshed; although he still dressed like a nerd, there was a newfound composure and confidence in his eyes.
Since that night, Peter hadn't returned to underground boxing, but he had found a new mission born of interest.
To be a chivalrous, friendly neighborhood hero.
"Hey, guys."
Harry Osborn walked over with his tray, his hair messy, his tie askew, and the dark circles under his eyes so heavy it looked like he'd been punched twice.
He didn't look right at all.
"What's up, Harry? Spend all night partying at a club in Manhattan?" Peter asked with half-joking concern.
"I wish it were a club, Peter. At least then my headache would be from alcohol, not anxiety."
Harry sighed and irritably picked up his fork, stirring his noodles aimlessly, unable to eat a single bite.
"It's about my dad."
"What's wrong with Mr. Osborn?" Alice Mason asked calmly, setting down her orange juice.
Harry looked around to make sure no one was paying attention before lowering his voice, as if confiding a shameful family secret or venting a fear that was about to crush him.
"It's not just the pressure from those old Vampires on the board, or the issues with that damn Military flight craft order—I'm used to those. The worst part is his health."
Harry stared at a point in the void, his voice trembling slightly.
"His physical condition is deteriorating rapidly. It started with insomnia, then he began talking nonsense. Recently, I don't know if it's some rare skin disease or a severe chemical allergy, but strange green patches have appeared on his neck, back, and even his arms."
At the mention of green patches, Peter's brow furrowed, while Alice's pupils constricted for a fleeting second.
"Those patches harden like scales. They itch, peel, and fester."
Harry swallowed hard, the fear in his eyes intensifying.
"The private Doctor has practically emptied the pharmacy—steroids, potent antibiotics, even chemotherapy drugs—nothing works. He can't sleep at all now and locks himself in his study."
Harry paused, his face turning pale.
"Sometimes when I pass the door, I hear him talking to himself, smashing things, and letting out Beast-like roars. That sound, Peter, Alice... that sound makes me feel like the thing locked inside isn't my father at all, but a strange monster."
Facing his friend's worry, Peter reached out and patted Harry's shoulder, trying to offer comfort.
Alice, meanwhile, quickly constructed a model of the truth in her mind.
There was no doubt: Norman Osborn had injected himself with an imperfect Human Enhancement Serum.
That unfiltered, raw power—the fire of Prometheus—was scorching his mortal shell.
The intense physical agony was accelerating his mental fracture. The evil persona known as the Green Goblin was awakening within this tortured frame, attempting to seize control.
"Um, Harry."
Peter suddenly remembered something and looked at Alice.
"Alice, what about that T-1 essence or whatever it's called that your factory produces? I remember it being incredibly effective for skin repair. You gave Aunt May a few bottles last time, and after she used them, even Uncle Ben said she looked ten years younger and her skin was glowing."
Harry looked up, a spark of hope igniting in his dull eyes before quickly fading. "Thanks for the thought, Peter. But my dad has a very serious condition. Even top dermatologists are at a loss; ordinary skincare products probably won't help."
"If it were the ordinary T-1 essence on the market, it would indeed be useless; that's just a mass-market product diluted countless times."
Alice suddenly interjected, then unzipped her backpack and pulled out a small, unlabelled silver bottle from between her textbooks and notebooks.
The bottle had a cold metallic sheen, looking very high-tech under the cafeteria lights.
This wasn't some skincare product.
Rather, it was a product of reverse engineering in her underground lab, created using raw serum samples intercepted from an Osborn Industries transport vehicle combined with extracts from mutated super spiders.
A potent neutralizer specifically for genetic mutations.
In Umbrella Corporation's database, she had named it G-Virus Raw Liquid Stabilizer Beta Version.
It couldn't reverse the mutation, but it could soothe those violent genes, sparing the host from the agony of physical collapse and allowing them to maintain mental clarity.
Of course, she couldn't tell Harry that.
She gently pushed the small bottle across the table to Harry, tapping her finger on the cap.
"This is a biological stabilizer concentrate I developed in the lab for specific and stubborn abnormal cell proliferation."
Alice wove a perfect white lie with a sincere expression.
"It powerfully calms irritated nerve endings and inhibits abnormal division at the cellular level. It's not on the market yet, hasn't even passed final FDA approval, but I have confidence in my technology."
"A stabilizer... will it really work?" Harry took the bottle, half-doubting.
"Think of it as a last resort, Harry," Alice shrugged. "It can't get any worse, can it? If it works, consider it a gift for Mr. Osborn from a friend."
"Thank you, Alice. If this can help my dad get a good night's sleep, even for just one night, I'll owe you a huge favor." Harry gripped the bottle tightly.
...
As night fell, the Osborn Mansion in the wealthy district of Long Island appeared exceptionally eerie.
Inside the third-floor study, the lights were off.
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