"That's so cool." Peter raised his camera, stars sparkling in his eyes. "I have to take a few for Uncle Ben and Aunt May; they will never believe I actually saw a prototype of an anti-gravity suspension device."
The three of them stood side by side.
Harry, in his expensive suit, was the center of attention, the heir to this vast empire.
Peter, with his camera, dressed simply, was an explorer full of curiosity and a pure heart.
And Alice, in a black dress, stood quietly to one side, like a subtle point of balance.
The image at this moment was as beautiful as an old photograph that would be frozen in time.
I don't know how much time had passed, maybe half an hour, maybe a century.
Suddenly, the lights of the main venue, which had been as bright as day, were extinguished.
Darkness descended so abruptly and so completely that it felt as if the power had been cut to the entire World instantly.
A low murmur of unease rose from the crowd, and the commotion spread like ripples in the darkness.
"Hum—"
A low vibration, as if coming from deep underground, sounded.
Immediately after, a blinding green spotlight slammed into the center of the stage, like a sharp sword piercing the darkness.
From the top-tier sound system came a deep, bassy voice, carefully polished by a sound engineer and carrying a metallic texture, shaking the heart of everyone present in their chests.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to—Tomorrow!"
The originally noisy crowd instantly quieted down, as if the mute button had been pressed. This dead silence lasted for three seconds, and then erupted into tsunami-like cheers and applause.
Behind the stage, a 30-meter-high IMAX ring screen lit up instantly. Norman Osborn's angular face was magnified hundreds of times, looking down at the masses.
He didn't wear a rigid three-piece suit and a Windsor knot like other CEOs.
Instead, he wore a high-collared dark green cashmere sweater, paired with a soft-textured, casually tailored gray suit jacket.
Without the constraints of a tie, this minimalist, intellectual attire made him less like a merchant reeking of money and more like a tech leader who was both approachable and visionary.
He stood in the center of the stage, arms spread wide, bathed in green radiance, as if he wanted to embrace everyone present, and as if he wanted to embrace the whole World.
"Many people ask me, 'Norman, why don't you, like that genius living on Malibu Beach who appears on the headlines of gossip magazines on time every day, go and build more big bombs for the Department of Defense that can blast half a province back to the Stone Age?'"
Norman Osborn paused deliberately at this point, a meaningful tease at the corners of his mouth.
The elites in the audience let out a knowing chuckle.
Everyone knew he was talking about Tony Stark, that arrogant, peerless arms genius.
"Tony Stark is committed to developing technology about endings; he makes spears, he makes fire that can wipe out cities in an instant. But in the eyes of Osborn Industries, that is not the future."
Norman walked to the very edge of the stage.
Under the green glow of the holographic projection, his face, bearing a compassionate smile, appeared extraordinarily sacred, even carrying a hint of eerie religious sentiment.
"Stark Industries protects abstract national security, while Osborn Industries protects the concrete, living, breathing 'you.' When his Jericho missiles explode in the desert thousands of miles away, our bio-repair technology is trying to keep your children away from leukemia, help your parents regain their youth, and let those who have spent the rest of their lives in wheelchairs stand up again."
Following his gesture, the image on the giant screen behind him changed.
A set of stunning biological conceptual animations appeared.
A severed lizard tail was growing rapidly, and then the screen switched to the human genetic double helix.
The originally broken and gray genetic chain was instantly activated after injecting a kind of green serum.
Lizard DNA fragments merged smoothly with the human genome on the screen, and the severed human limbs miraculously grew bones, blood vessels, muscles, and finally were covered with new skin.
Although everyone knew that this was currently just a theoretical model in the lab, a forbidden field that had not yet passed ethical review.
But—
Clap...
Thunderous applause, long and unending.
That wave of fanaticism almost blew the roof off the venue.
Some were even moved to tears, as if they had seen the dawn of humanity overcoming aging, sickness, and death.
Peter's hand holding the camera froze in mid-air, his mouth slightly open, deeply shocked by this grand vision: "My God, cross-species genetic inheritance algorithms; if this can be achieved, it's about the same as God."
Harry looked at the radiant man on the stage, his eyes shining with a pride he had never felt before.
He turned to Peter and Alice and shouted loudly: "Look, this is what my father wants to do, this is why I want to inherit all of this."
At the same time, the celebrities, politicians, and wealthy businessmen in the audience nodded one after another, whispering to each other.
Compared to Tony Stark, who liked to linger between casinos and cover models, and had an eccentric and uncontrollable personality, the calm, family-oriented, well-spoken, and medically-dedicated Norman Osborn before them fit their definition of a leader of the civilized World better.
Only Alice.
She stood in the frenzied crowd like a cold reef.
Because she knew better than anyone that the man on stage who kept talking about saving people was, behind the scenes, conducting enhancement serum experiments that were far more dangerous than many missiles.
What a brilliant speech, Norman.
You packaged hell as heaven, painted monsters as Angels, and incidentally trampled your competitor into the mud.
"His speech is very infectious, isn't it? Maybe we should consider increasing our cooperation with the Osborn Group?" Aunt Sarah wiped the corners of her eyes, moved, clearly also touched by this grand narrative.
Alice gently held Sarah's arm and said in a soft voice: "Aunt, some people promise you heaven so that you will willingly walk into their hell. I think the current depth of cooperation is just right. Our little factory is better off staying away from such a giant crocodile."
Just then, a cool breeze blew.
The climax of the expo had arrived.
To create an atmosphere, hundreds of ceremonial cannons around the venue fired in unison, releasing a large amount of golden confetti and holographic colored balloons into the sky.
"Look, it's golden rain!" Peter pointed excitedly at the sky, jumping up like a child.
The golden raindrops sparkled under the searchlights, like a bounty sprinkled by the gods.
They drifted down, landing on the bare shoulders of socialites, on Harry's expensive suit, in Peter's messy hair, and on the hem of Alice's black dress.
Couples were kissing all around, fathers were lifting their children high to watch the drone performance, and elderly people were watching it all peacefully on benches, their faces beaming with happy smiles.
Harry was helping Peter adjust the ISO settings on his camera, the two huddled together, occasionally letting out laughter devoid of any shadow.
How peaceful.
How beautiful.
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