Chapter 25: Bonds of Mortality - Part 4

I brought my father—who looked like a homeless man—into the house and listened to what he had to say.

A prototype drug developed by Oscorp called the "Physical Enhancement Serum"... it had created a violent alternate personality.

So after all, my father hadn't done those things of his own free will.

I let out a breath of relief… and felt a sense of helplessness in the face of this absurd, unfair reality.

"But Dad… how did you manage to come back?"

"I don't know myself… just that someone, or something, helped me."

With those words, my father began to speak.

Apparently, just before he was to be transferred to a psychiatric facility, the transport vehicle had been attacked by someone.

"…What are you going to do now, Dad?"

"Of course, I’ll turn myself in… but there’s one thing. Something that’s been bothering me deeply."

He stood up and touched a sculpture shaped like an eagle above the full-length mirror in his study.

It seemed the beak could move—when he lifted it, the eyes glowed green.

"W-What are you doing…?"

"This is a key to a hidden room. Only I know about it."

The large bookshelf in the study slid aside, revealing a door that looked like a mechanical plate.

My father placed his hand on a black panel right beside the door.

A beep sounded as his palm was scanned, and the door opened.

"This door's biometric authentication only allows access to me… and you, Harry."

"Me…?"

"Yes. In case I ever disappeared… I wanted you to 'dispose' of it."

With that, my father entered the room.

I rushed in after him—and questioned whether this place was even part of our house.

It was a room so mechanical, it felt more like an Oscorp laboratory.

Showcases lined up like bookshelves displayed sealed cylinders filled with green liquid, all exposed to view.

On what looked like storage shelves were many small, round orange machines. The eye-like lenses in the center were unlit… probably meaning they were inactive.

There was also a small platform that looked like a person could stand on it—wings attached—almost as if it were designed for flight.

"What is this place…? What is all of this…?"

"Harry, look at this."

My father pulled a lever attached to the wall, and the only darkened showcase in the room lit up.

Inside was a green suit of armor.

Body-shaped protective gear and a mask with a wicked grin.

"The G-Green Goblin…?"

"Why are you so surprised? You know why I was arrested, don’t you?"

"B-But…"

From inside the case, the grinning mask and sinister eyes stared straight at me.

I had been turning a blind eye to it all.

Telling myself my father wasn’t to blame.

That the Green Goblin was just a delusion.

That no one had really been hurt.

That my father hadn’t changed.

But the truth was different.

My father was a criminal.

The Green Goblin was real.

There were indeed people who had been killed.

And my father… he had changed.

"…Harry? What’s wrong, are you feeling okay?"

"A-Ah, sorry… Dad…"

"…Let’s get out of here. I don’t have good memories of this place either."

Urged by my father, I started to leave the room—when suddenly, I heard glass shatter behind me.

"Dad…?"

I turned around.

One of the cylinders containing green liquid had fallen to the floor and shattered.

The green liquid vaporized on contact with the air, rising as a cloud of green smoke.

My father stood blankly before the shelf where the cylinders had been stored.

"What are you…!?"

Clang. Clang.

He picked up another cylinder and smashed it to the floor.

The liquid inside scattered, and the room gradually filled with a green haze.

"W-What are you doing!? Dad!"

"Harry, Harry, Harry. The reason I went mad was because of this serum. This drug messes with people’s minds… and I… I wanted to get rid of it. I did? Me? Why? Why am I doing this!?"

My father laughed like a madman and pulled down the shelf.

All the cylinders shattered, and the room filled completely with smoke.

"Dad—cough—gh, cough!"

I inhaled the gas, and my head grew fuzzy.

My thoughts became hazy.

"It’s all right, Harry… you can become just like me too… we’re the same, Harry. Accept it. Move forward. Harry, Harry. Harry?"

Losing my balance, I leaned against the wall.

There are three of my father in front of me.

That can't be.

There’s only one father.

What about mother?

Mother is dead.

There are two of me.

Why?

There shouldn’t be two of me.

No, there are two.

"Me" is me, and "I" am also me.

Several lights blur and overlap.

Little by little, I begin to lose consciousness.

Beyond the showcase… a grotesque green fairy is sneering at me.

"Gwen, today was so much fun."

I look down at both my hands, now full of shopping bags.

A few outfits, a swimsuit for the summer trip, Gwen’s recommended cosmetics, shampoo, and some accessories I don’t quite understand.

I really bought a lot.

At some point, Gwen even took one of the bags for me because I had too many.

"I might’ve had even more fun than you."

"…But Gwen, you didn’t buy anything today. You just tagged along with me…"

That’s right. Gwen didn’t have any shopping bags.

When we arrived at the mall and when we left—it hadn’t changed.

"Hmph. A capable woman knows how to enjoy window shopping."

"R-Really?"

"Lie. I’m just broke right now."

She said it so confidently that I almost believed her.

…Then, I placed one of the bags on the floor and rummaged through it.

From among the accessories, I pulled out one.

"Gwen, here."

What I held was a leather bracelet.

The outside was metal, engraved with some kind of design.

"Hm? That’s the one from that stall earlier, right?"

"Yeah."

It was… the bracelet Gwen had stared at for a while.

It wasn’t even that expensive, but after touching it for a bit, she had put it back in place.

So…

"This is… a gift from me."

I handed her the bracelet.

"Eh…"

"Since you came shopping with me today… and taught me all sorts of stuff… and you’re always so kind to me."

When I said that, Gwen looked back and forth between the bracelet in her hand and my face several times—then pulled me into a tight hug with a beaming smile.

"Fubeh."

"Aaah, you’re just too cute! Michelle doesn’t need a boyfriend after all! I’ll be your girlfriend—or boyfriend—whatever you want!"

Pressed into her chest, I was roughly patted on the head by Gwen.

Ugh… I can’t breathe…

Noticing that I wasn’t replying—or rather, couldn’t reply—Gwen let go of me.

"A-Ah, sorry! Michelle, are you okay?"

"Hah… hahh… y-yeah, I’m okay."

It’s true I couldn’t breathe.

But it wasn’t because something physically blocked me.

I had taken in so much of Gwen’s nice scent… that I simply couldn’t breathe anymore. I had held my breath on my own.

"But really, I’m so happy. Thank you, Michelle."

Seeing Gwen smile like that… filled my heart with warmth.

I want to stay like this forever.

To always be with a friend I get along with this well.

Just for now… I want to forget all the baggage, all the complications, and just be "Michelle Jane."

From the bottom of my heart, I was smiling.

"Michelle… are you really sure you’ll be okay getting home on your own?"

"I’ll be fine. I may not look it, but I’m actually pretty strong."

Gwen seemed worried about me carrying all the bags in both hands.

But she didn’t need to be.

If I got serious, I could carry a whole car around.

"I-I see… okay. I’ll trust you."

"Good."

Seeing Gwen reluctantly nod, I nodded back as well.

"Well then, Michelle. See you tomorrow… oh, wait, it’s the weekend, so the day after! Monday—at school again."

"Yeah. Thanks for today."

"Don’t mention it. Alright, see you."

"Yeah, see you."

…“See you,” huh.

After parting ways with Gwen, I started walking.

It takes about fifteen minutes on foot from the mall to my house.

It’s a bit of a walk, but… it’s not even dark out yet.

Just a faint red tint in the sky.

It’ll be at least another hour before you could call it nighttime.

"Hehe…"

I probably won’t forget today.

…It wasn’t anything special.

But unfortunately for me, I’ve got a really good memory.

Because of the super-soldier serum.

So every ordinary day ends up stored in my brain like pages in a photo album.

Ever since the day I first came to Queens.

Back when I was living my life as a villain—there wasn’t a single memory I ever wanted to look back on.

But as "Michelle"… I had plenty.

Eating with Peter.

Staying up late watching movies with Ned and the others.

Days like today, shopping with Gwen.

All of them simple, ordinary moments—but happy pages in my record.

That’s why I…

I looked down at the mobile device in my hand.

On the screen was an encrypted message.

“Assassination request: Norman Osborn, escaped from prison.”

I closed the device and slipped it into my chest pocket.

I—

If it’s to protect this happiness, then I’ll do whatever it takes.

That’s what I believed.

Still carrying the bags from shopping with Gwen, I had arrived at my underground base.

I placed the bags onto the cold concrete floor and took my suit out from a small container.

Stripping off my casual clothes, I changed into a stab-resistant inner suit.

Stepping onto the geta-like boot parts, they automatically attached themselves.

My arms, waist, body—the armor equipped itself.

Armor suits look like a hassle to wear, but in reality, it’s easy.

Because it’s fully automated.

I looked at my armored right arm.

Repaired by Tinkerer, the arm had changed significantly from before.

Due to previous damage, the vibranium components had been greatly reduced, and the repairs couldn’t fully restore it—only the minimum necessary armor had been replaced.

Compared to the left arm, the additional plating was noticeably thinner.

In its place was a newly built component.

A Claw Hook.

It had three sharp talons, connected with a cable woven from a special synthetic fiber.

Equipped with a launching mechanism, it could grab distant objects… or even be used to stick to ceilings and swing around, just like Spider-Man.

Not ideal to test it in the field without practice… I should try a bit here first…

As I was thinking that, my mobile device rang.

I picked it up and saw the name George Stacy on the screen.

Gwen’s father… What does he want?

…The mask wasn’t on yet.

Switching my mindset from Red Cap to Michelle Jane, I answered the call.

"Hello, this is Michelle. Mr. George?"

"Ah, yes—this is George. Um, I have something I need to ask you."

George continued in a flustered tone.

"Are you with Gwen right now?"

"…Huh? No, I’m not."

My heart pounded violently.

A sharp thud in my chest.

"Gwen hasn’t come home yet. I’m worried she might’ve gotten caught up in something—"

I dropped the phone at my feet.

Gwen.

Gwen?

Gwen Stacy?

...Norman?

Green Goblin...?

In my memory, several fragments begin to connect.

Like a spider’s web spreading out, scattered pieces of the past start weaving together—important moments tying into one another.

And then, I saw it—a vision I didn’t want to see.

Of all the futures I could imagine, this was the one I most wanted to avoid.

Yet it surfaced in my mind anyway.

Even if I closed my eyes, the image wouldn’t go away.

Gwen Stacy—falling from a great height.

The Green Goblin—laughing maniacally.

Spider-Man—reaching out to save her.

And then, Gwen falls… and dies.

Over and over again, that scene replays in my mind.

“Ugh… ngh…”

I let out an involuntary groan and slump against the wall.

On the other end of the phone, I hear George Stacy’s voice.

In that vision, Peter, Gwen, and the Goblin—their faces change.

The actors are replaced. The artist changes.

Across different worlds, in different forms… but always, always with the same ending.

Peter, cradling Gwen’s blood-soaked body in his arms, tears streaming down his face.

His anguished cries echo through my head.

They squeeze my heart tight.

Why am I remembering this now?

Why can’t I stop remembering?

I don’t know.

Maybe someone… something is binding my memories.

But right now, I don’t have time to chase down who or what that might be.

…I have one purpose.

To save her.

And so, I fasten the bright red mask—redder than blood—over my face.