Norman Osborn stood alone in his study, still breathing heavily. His hands trembled as he placed the green vial in the metal case. His fingers brushed the cold glass, eyes fixed on it with desperation.
He turned, ready to head for the hidden elevator that led to his private lab.
Then...
Thk!
A sharp, quick sting pierced the side of his neck.
He blinked, confused. Reached up.
But his hand was already numb.
His vision blurred.
He staggered once, then fell to the ground with a soft thud.
Behind him, Lina stepped out of the shadows, lowering her wrist. The nanite armor covering her hand shifted back into stealth mode.
She spoke softly into her comms. "Target down. Non-lethal. Secure the serum."
The two Widows appeared from the hall a second later, stepping over Norman's unconscious body. Their black nanite armor shimmered faintly as it adjusted to the low light. They have already recovered all the necessary data and have bugged the place.
One of them picked up the metal case from Norman's desk and opened it.
"Serum secured," she said.
Lina nodded. "Good."
She walked over to the fireplace wall and scanned it. Hermes pinged a hidden panel behind the bookshelf.
[Hidden elevator detected. Biometric lock. Access granted.]
The door slid open with a soft hiss.
Inside, a small lift descended into darkness.
The three Widows stepped in.
...
[Secret Underground Lab – 30 seconds later]
The doors opened to a cold lab.
Blue lights flickered on. Rows of medical equipment lined the walls. Screens blinked with active data.
But at the center of the room...
There he was.
Harry Osborn.
He floated inside a vertical glass chamber, suspended in glowing blue liquid. Wires and tubes were connected to his chest and back. His eyes were closed. His face looked pale, but calm. Peaceful. The vitals were steady, but the screen showed:
[Severe cellular degeneration detected – critical stage]
Lina stepped forward, silent.
One of the Widows scanned the computers. "Everything's active. Norman was monitoring him constantly."
The other Widow had already placed a Stark data drive into the main terminal. "Copying all files. Medical logs. DNA scans. Lab tests. Looks like Norman ran hundreds of simulations using some kind of mutation. None worked."
Lina studied Harry through the glass. "Doesn't matter. Tony wants both of them and he's going to get them. Pull him out of there."
...
[Some unknown times later...]
Norman Osborn slowly opened his eyes. His head throbbed. His throat was dry. Everything ached. He saw a door before his eyes and tried to run there, but something yanked at his neck.
A sharp pull. Cold metal.
"Arg!"
He touched his neck.
A thick metal collar was wrapped around his neck, connected to a chain bolted into the wall. Then he looked around. The walls were metal. Bare. No windows. Just one door. Out of his reach.
He pulled at the chain, gritting his teeth. It didn't budge.
"What is this?" he growled. "Where the hell am I?!"
He screamed. He cursed. He kicked at the floor, but no one came.
After a few minutes, his breathing slowed. The pain in his head returned. His throat burned.
Then...
The door opened.
Norman looked up.
A young man walked in. He looked like he was in his early twenties, clean-shaven, sharp-eyed, and confident expression. He wore a simple blue shirt and jeans. His steps were calm. Relaxed. But his eyes… cold.
Norman narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"
The young man said nothing at first. He just looked at him.
Then he smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
Not a cruel one either.
Just… calm. Controlled.
"You're awake," the man said. "Good."
Norman pulled at the collar again. "You think this is funny? You don't know who you're messing with."
The man tilted his head. "Oh, I know exactly who I'm messing with."
Norman's jaw clenched. "Let me out of this thing right now, or I swear..."
"Or you'll do what?" the man asked. "Yell harder?"
Norman glared at him. "Who are you?! What do you want?!"
The young man stepped closer. Just a little. Enough for Norman to get a better look at his face. There was something familiar about him. Something in the eyes.
And then the man said:
"We haven't met before. This is our first meeting and probably our last."
He leaned in slightly, voice lower now. Colder.
"You tried to kill my father. Rings a bell?"
Norman's eyes widened. "What?"
Baaam! A hard punch to his gut... Norman coughed out in pain as his body flew back and crashed on the metal wall before tumbling onto the floor. He coughed violently, wheezing as air finally filled his lungs again. His mind reeled, not just from the pain, but from what the stranger had said.
"You… your father?" he rasped, wiping blood from his mouth. His voice cracked. "Who the hell are you…?"
The young man stepped forward slowly.
Not in armor.
No suit.
Just cold, simmering rage.
The kind that didn't need power to be dangerous.
He crouched down in front of Norman, resting his forearm on his knee, looking him in the eye. There was no cruelty in his expression. No pleasure. Just focus. Calculation.
"You ordered the hit on Howard Stark," Tony said calmly. "You planned to steal the Symbiote. You tried to kill my father, kill Peggy Carter, frame Fury, and replace the World Security Council with puppets. I've seen every file. Every comm line. Every backdoor payment funneled through Oscorp's shell accounts. You even hired assassins to clean up after your failures."
Norman's eyes were wide now. He didn't deny it. He couldn't.
"You really think you can do this and get away with it?" he snapped, forcing his voice back into its usual venom. "You're just a kid playing at power. You have no idea..."
BANG.
He grabbed Norman's hair and slammed his face on the floor, "Do you?" He slammed once again and again. Four times in a row before standing up.
"Anthony Stark. The one who disappeared from the limelight years ago," Norman mumbled in his slurry voice as blood gushed out of his mouth, forehead, scrubbed skin, and broken nose. Well, his face was a bloody mess.
"Wow! You can speak in your situation. Call me impressed. Well, since you tried to kill my dad and missed. Now, I think I should return the favor, right? Oh, and trust me. I will do it point blank. I won't miss," Tony said as he walked to the left wall and gave a nod. The metal door shifted, revealing Harry, floating in a circular tank.
Norman's entire demeanor shattered.
All the rage, the arrogance, the snarl in his voice were gone and replaced by sheer, unfiltered panic.
"Harry… no, no, no... don't... don't touch him!"
Tony didn't look at Norman. He stepped toward the tank. The lights inside glowed a soft blue, highlighting Harry's face, the frail outline of his body, and the web of medical wires trailing from his chest.
Tony just stood there for a moment. Watching.
Then he reached into his jacket.
Pulled something out.
A vial.
The golden liquid inside shimmered like sunlight trapped in a bottle. Even from across the room, Norman felt it. The weight of hope. Of salvation.
His eyes widened.
"No… no, wait... what is that?"
Tony turned, holding the vial between two fingers.
"This," he said calmly, "is a stabilized genetic restorative. Fully synthetic. Nanite-enhanced cellular regeneration. It doesn't just slow down deterioration... it reverses it. Rewrites it." He looked at the serum for a second. "It could save him. Not just buy time... cure him."
Norman's heart stopped.
"Give it to him," he whispered. Then louder. "Give it to him! Please... please, I'll do anything. Don't let him die!"
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"
Norman dropped to his knees. "Yes! Anything... everything. I'll shut down Oscorp, I'll confess, I'll go public, testify before the Council. I'll give you every dirty secret I've ever kept. Just… please, don't let him die."
Tony looked down at the vial.
Then at Norman.
His face was unreadable.
Then he slowly crouched down, and placed the vial on the floor between them.
Norman stared at it like it was a divine relic.
He moved toward it. His arms trembling, crawling.
And then...
CRACK.
Tony's boot came down on the vial.
Golden liquid exploded across the floor in a sparkling splash. It hissed against the metal, steam rising. Gone. Useless. Destroyed.
Norman froze.
Silent.
Like he'd been shot in the heart.
He didn't speak.
Couldn't.
His hand reached toward the puddle, trembling violently.
Tony leaned down, his voice low and cutting.
"You don't get to beg. Not after what you did. Not after what you tried to do."
Norman's voice finally broke through, shaking, gasping. "You… you... WHY?"
Tony scoffed. "Why? Why should I help a murderer's son? I have seen the inhumane shit you did. The number of people you killed. The way you extracted that kid's mutation, blood, bone marrow, and spinal fluids... He was alive. Yet, he refused to scream. He refused to give up even in his last moment."
He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath...
"How many people lost their families because of you and your obsession? You don't even know, do you? Well, I guess, you can call it karma? Yeah... Let's call it your karma."
Norman looked up, eyes wild. "He's just a boy…"
"No," Tony said coldly. "He's your boy."
He stepped back.
"You think I'm going to save him? Let him live? Let him grow up hating me for this? You think I'm going to risk him becoming another version of you?"
He shook his head.
"No. I'm not leaving this one behind to grow up and come for me later."
Norman tried to stand, but his legs failed him. He collapsed to the floor, eyes wide with horror.
"Please," he whispered. "Don't kill him. Don't… please… he's all I have…"
Tony didn't respond.
Didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
He just turned and walked away from the shattered vial.
"You'll stay there and watch your son die, before your eyes, little by little... Good luck."
And behind him?
The sound of a father sobbing into the remains of his sins.
The door closed with a loud bang.
...
Outside the holding cell, Yelena waited. She'd been listening the whole time.
As Tony stepped out and the door slid shut behind him, she asked, "So what now? Want me to finish it?"
Tony didn't answer at first.
Then, quietly, "No."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You're not going to kill him?"
"I am," Tony said. "Just not yet."
There was a moment of silence between them...
"So... That was dark, Tony," Yelena said, patting his shoulder. "You already gave the serum to the boy, so, why did you do that? You could have just tortured him for days and then killed him."
"Where's the fun in that?" Tony smiled. "I want Norman's live confession. And before you say anything about using AI to create a fake, live sounds much better, and right now, Norman is suffering a torture a thousand times worse than any physical torture... Let him suffer a bit and keep an eye on him. We need him alive."
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[Read 16 advance chapters] [No double billing]
...
Next Ch: 69 [Natasha & Yelena]
Ch: 70 [Natasha's perfect solution]
Ch: 71 [Rules & kisses]
Ch: 72 [Pleasure: Natasha's first]
Ch: 73 [Yelena likes it rough]
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