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*****
"Today is your lucky day!"
The arrogant, manic voice continued to echo in their ears, while the flickering blue flames tested the very limits of their sanity. To appear out of thin air, hurl a ball of terrifying fire at an innocent man, and then leave with a laugh...
And he called this a lucky day? No, they wanted no part of such luck.
While the bystanders were paralyzed by terror, Harry watched the Oscorp board members—who had just barged in—with a cold sneer. You idiots. You're about to have a very bad day.
Beep... Beep...
A familiar sound startled the lead doctor. He looked at the life-support monitor in disbelief, his eyes widening. "How is this possible!"
The flatline, which had been moments away from a steady drone, began to pulse again. The peaks and valleys of a heartbeat returned, rapidly stabilizing into a healthy rhythm. The doctor, convinced the equipment was malfunctioning, actually slapped the monitor twice before turning his gaze toward the figure of Norman Osborn, still wreathed in blue fire.
Could it be...
Swallowing hard, he watched the blue flames gradually die down. He gritted his teeth, squeezed his eyes shut, and reached out a hand toward the fire. The next second, his eyes flew open. His hand was completely unharmed.
He stared at his palm in shock and hurriedly tore off his medical gloves to feel the air, but the moment he reached out again, the blue flames vanished entirely. The doctor sighed, a mix of frustration and utter bewilderment.
"What happened?" "Yeah! What's going on?" "He's alive again? Impossible!" "What was that thing just now?"
A barrage of questions filled the room. The Oscorp directors, though secretly bitter that their takeover plans had hit a snag, were forced to put on a show of deep concern.
"Heh." Watching their theatrical displays, Harry couldn't stop sneering.
Crack!
A crisp sound rang out, like a brittle shell fracturing. A fissure appeared on Norman Osborn's charred, blackened skin. Then, like a cicada shedding its husk, the burnt crust began to peel away in large flakes, revealing perfectly intact, healthy skin underneath.
"This is nothing short of a miracle," the doctor breathed. He turned to the nurses and junior staff who were still frozen in fear. "Quick! Perform a full check on the patient!"
Though Norman looked fine, protocol demanded a thorough examination. "The rest of you, please step outside!" the doctor requested, looking at Harry and the directors.
Harry nodded and was the first to walk out. Behind him, the board members exchanged uneasy glances. Their hopes for a vacancy at the top had evaporated, and worse, they now had to face a waking Norman Osborn after the things they had said in front of Harry. They truly wished the man had never opened his eyes.
But then again, who could have predicted a flaming skeleton? The memory of that image still sent shivers down their spines. Grumbling inwardly and casting one last reluctant look at Norman, they filed out of the operating room.
Harry sat on a long bench outside, eyes closed, waiting in silence. He couldn't stand the sight of those men a second longer. The directors lingered, faces twitching. They shouldn't have come. Now, they were in a bind—it felt wrong to leave, but staying felt even worse. They were wallowing in their own regret.
A short while later, the doors pushed open again. Harry snapped his eyes open and stood up as his father was wheeled out. Before he could speak, the directors swarmed the bed.
"How is he? Is Mr. Osborn alright!" "If anything is wrong, I'll tear this godforsaken hospital down!" "God be praised!"
"That's enough!" Harry finally snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "I don't want to see any of you right now. Leave. Immediately."
"Harry! How can you talk to us like that?" "Exactly! Regardless of the situation, we are your elders!" "We are just worried about Norman!"
Harry swept a frigid gaze over them and spat out a single word: "Get out."
Their hypocrisy made his stomach churn.
"What did you say?" "This is too much!"
They glared at Harry, performing one last act of indignation, but internally, they were overjoyed. The kid had given them an excuse to leave. They wouldn't have to face Norman the moment he woke up.
Harry ignored them, following the gurney to the private ward. There, he finally got the update from the doctor: Norman wasn't just "stable"—he had never been better. He was healthier than the average man.
Hearing this, Harry finally let out a breath of relief. Thank you, Gwen... he whispered in his heart, engraving the debt of gratitude into his memory.
Fire.
In Norman Osborn's vision, there was nothing but fire. It climbed his body like vines, searing every inch of his flesh, crawling into his nose and mouth until every breath was an agony. He felt like a man drowning in a sea of orange-red flame.
Until... a flicker of ghostly blue light pierced his world, washing away the pain. Norman let out a comfortable sigh and slowly opened his eyes.
Whiteness. No fire.
His heart settled. Memories of the moments before his collapse flashed by: the explosion, being pinned, the heat. He remembered the pain vividly, but he also had a hazy recollection of being saved.
But why didn't he feel any pain? By all logic, after being caught in a blast like that, he should be...
Suddenly, a flash of blue crossed his mind. Was it that? He murmured, remembering a sensation of warmth. He lifted his hands and saw they were flawless. For a moment, he wondered if the fire had been a hallucination, but then he saw Harry, fast asleep in a chair by his side. A rare smile touched Norman's lips. This boy...
As Norman shifted to sit up and reach for a jacket to cover Harry, the boy jolted upright, instantly awake.
"Dad!" Harry stared at his father, eyes brimming with tears. He moved to hug him, but...
"Still so weak. There's nothing to cry about," Norman said coldly. As Harry froze, uncertain, Norman reached out and pulled the boy into a gentle embrace, patting his head. "You were scared, weren't you?"
Harry nodded, clutching his father tightly.
Norman whispered, "Remember, weakness is a vulnerability your enemies will exploit. Never show it to others."
"But Dad isn't 'others,'" Harry mumbled. Seeing Norman's neutral gaze, he quickly added, "I understand!"
Satisfied, Norman let go and wiped a stray tear from Harry's cheek. "Dad, how do you feel? Are you hungry? I had the butler prepare some food."
Norman looked at his own hand and flexed it. A hint of surprise and calculation flashed in his eyes. He nodded. "I am actually quite hungry."
"I'll go call!" Harry dashed out of the room, shouting for a nurse before calling the family butler.
A short while later, after a final check-up, the doctor left the room, still muttering about "medical miracles."
"Your nutritional meal, sir." The butler, who had been waiting at the hospital, laid out the food. He looked at Harry and added, "Young Master, you should eat as well. You haven't had a bite all night."
Norman paused, his brow arching sharply. "You must eat on time!"
Harry obeyed, taking the utensils from the butler. The butler smiled and excused himself.
"Eat," Norman commanded, picking up his knife and fork.
The next second, he froze. Across the table, Harry's eyes went wide. The silver fork and knife in Norman's hands had been bent into perfect right angles.
"Dad... is it not to your liking? Should I have the butler swap it?" Harry asked tentatively.
Norman stared at the metal in silence. He hadn't used any significant force. How?
Wait. He remembered the sample he had been clutching. Could it be... His eyes filled with disbelief followed by a surge of triumph. If his suspicion was correct, that fire had been worth it. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to rush to a lab and test himself.
Noticing Harry watching him warily, Norman decided to finish the meal first. "It's nothing," he said with a faint smile. Under Harry's bewildered gaze, he casually straightened the utensils with his fingers and began to eat.
Harry relaxed and started eating too. Shortly after, Norman finished his meal and, despite Harry's concerned look, hurried out of the hospital toward Oscorp. Even though the building had suffered fire damage, only a few floors were affected, and Oscorp had plenty of other laboratories. He needed answers tonight, or he wouldn't be able to sleep.
Watching his father's retreating back, Harry felt helpless. The man was a workaholic. If Harry hadn't been so confident in Gwen's abilities, he never would have let him leave.
"Forget it, I should just go home. He's clearly healthy." Harry murmured. Then, he recalled the image of his father bending the silverware. As a member of the Titan Team who had seen his fair share of "incidents," he knew that wasn't normal. A regular human couldn't do that.
Suddenly, he remembered the "Enhancement Formula" Oscorp had been developing in secret. "Could it be... the research was a success?"
Harry whispered to himself, a look of excitement flashing in his eyes. If it worked, did that mean he could gain super-strength too? Could he finally stand beside Gwen? He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.
The Next Day
It was Sunday.
Gwen yawned, heading toward the bathroom with a head of messy blonde hair. Suddenly, a bright white light flashed. Her instincts flared, and she whipped her head around.
There stood little Lamb, holding a phone with an embarrassed grin. "Uh, oops. Forgot to turn off the flash!"
"AAAAHHH!" Gwen screamed, lunging after him. "Delete it right now! I look hideous!"
"No way!" Lamb shouted, bolting downstairs. "I'm going to show everyone the 'real' you!"
"You want to die!" Gwen roared like a freshly awakened lioness, giving chase.
Lamb scrambled away, shouting back, "Not unless you give me ten dollars!"
"In your dreams!" Gwen was even more furious now. He dared to blackmail her?
"Then I'm sending it to Peter and Harry!"
"Lamb! I'm going to kill you!"
"Blehh!" Lamb turned back to stick his tongue out at her.
Watching him dodge as nimbly as a monkey, Gwen stopped to catch her breath. She sneered, "Delete it now and you might live. Otherwise..."
"Otherwise what? Goldie the Lion King?"
Goldie the Lion King?! Gwen's face twisted. That was a story she had told him.
Looking at Lamb's smug face, Gwen took a deep breath. "Otherwise, I'll send that photo of you pooping the bed when you were little to everyone in your class!"
Lamb froze. "You don't have a photo like that!"
"You want to bet?" Gwen smirked. The little brat was getting way too bold lately.
"Sis~~" Lamb's eyes darted around as he tried to act cute. "Even if you don't wash your face or brush your hair, you're still my Sun Goddess!"
"Nice try!" Gwen wasn't buying it.
Lamb pulled out his phone. "Deleting it now. A shame to lose such a... stunning photo."
"One more word and I'll—"
"Done! It's gone!" Lamb zipped over to her side, hugging her and holding up the phone for proof.
Gwen checked the gallery and nodded, satisfied. She poked him in the forehead and threatened, "Challenge me again and I'll give you a head full of bumps!"
"I know, I know!" Lamb chuckled and vanished.
Gwen shook her head helplessly. She knew he'd probably try it again. But... it was actually kind of fun. She smiled to herself.
Ping! Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out to check.
Gwen, thank you. My dad is fully recovered. To show our gratitude, could I take you out to dinner tonight?
Harry was inviting her to dinner? Gwen grinned. Well, she certainly deserved it!
She sent back a quick reply, and Harry's response was instantaneous.
Then I'll pick you up at six tonight.
Gwen thought for a moment, sent a confirmation, and headed into the bathroom. After a quick wash, she went to the dining room. Seeing Mike looking at his phone, she crept up behind him and playfully tapped his shoulder. As Mike turned, she ducked to the other side, giggling.
"Whatcha looking at, Dad?"
Mike turned back and gave her a playful flick on the forehead.
(End of Chapter)