A chilling, metallic voice slithered through the room like a creeping fog, instantly gripping James in terror. His limbs trembled as an invisible wave of dread swept over him, and his knees buckled from the sudden weight of fear.
James had heard rumors—rumors about the mysterious deaths of Osborn Corporation shareholders in recent days. The pattern was too obvious to ignore. And now, standing here, feeling that unnatural presence, he knew it—the mastermind had come.
Before he could utter a warning, his eyes locked onto a rapid glint of metal cutting through the air.
"Watch out!" he shouted instinctively, his voice cracking.
But Nathan had already moved.
In a fluid motion, Nathan twisted his torso, retracted his outstretched arm, and darted aside, narrowly avoiding the deadly projectile. The dart embedded itself into the sofa behind him with a sickening crunch, tearing through the fabric like it was paper.
The room was still for a heartbeat—then the window shattered.
Glass exploded inward as a terrifying figure burst through from above.
A green figure, wearing an ominous demon-like mask and clad in a sleek, metallic green battle suit, hovered into the room atop a spiked silver glider.
The Green Goblin had arrived.
James froze in terror. His legs gave way, and he collapsed back onto the sofa like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "Demon…" he whispered, eyes wide with horror. "It's over. I'm finished too…"
Suspended in mid-air like some hellish phantom, the Green Goblin looked down at Nathan and sneered.
"Well, well. So you're not just some random rich fool. Dodging my darts like that? Impressive."
His eyes gleamed behind the mask as he continued, "Buying Osborn shares after shareholders started dying? That takes guts. Or stupidity."
"But I'll give you credit—you've got potential. It's just too bad… potential won't save you today. Those shares? They're mine now."
He reached down toward the array of pumpkin bombs clipped to his waist.
But then—something shifted.
The Green Goblin's voice cracked with desperation. "No! Get out of here—now! I can't hold him back!"
The glider bobbed slightly in the air. The Goblin's armored body trembled violently, as if two souls were wrestling for control within one body.
Nathan's eyes narrowed. He understood immediately—this was Norman Osborn's true personality trying to resist the twisted Goblin identity.
"Leave! I said leave!" Norman cried again, the pain in his voice real.
But the moment passed.
With a monstrous roar, the Green Goblin reasserted control. "Too late! None of you are leaving! You die here!"
His hand once again reached for a pumpkin bomb.
James, eyes darting between the figure and Nathan, whispered, "What the hell… He's schizophrenic or something?"
But before the Goblin could act, Nathan made his move.
With a flick of his wrist, he threw a small object—a silver disc no larger than a coin. It spun rapidly through the air.
The Goblin instinctively twisted his body, easily avoiding the object. He barked out a mocking laugh. "What was that? You missed! Your aim sucks!"
But Nathan's expression remained calm, unreadable.
**The Goblin turned just in time to see the disc ricochet off the ceiling lamp and return—**straight into his chest. It clicked against his armor and magnetized in place.
"Really? This is your plan? A tiny disc? My armor can stop bullets, genius."
He resumed reaching for the bomb.
Then it happened.
A silent hum pulsed through the air.
The disc unleashed a focused electromagnetic pulse, invisible but deadly to all electronics within a few meters.
Instantly, the Goblin's glider sputtered.
His eyes widened.
"No—!"
The glider died mid-air and plummeted. The Green Goblin crashed to the floor in a heavy metallic heap.
Everyone flinched at the sound of impact.
The villain groaned, staggering as he pushed himself up. "An EMP… a mini-EMP?! You've got to be kidding me!"
The disc was a prototype electromagnetic weapon—designed and engineered by Nathan himself. Compact but powerful, its range was limited but precise, meant for surgical strikes.
As the Goblin gritted his teeth and tried to get up, Nathan moved.
With a swift dash, he closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
"You talk too much," he said coolly.
He lashed out with a spinning whip kick.
CRACK!
The Goblin went flying—slamming into a wooden cabinet, reducing it to splinters.
A guttural scream escaped him as he tumbled to the ground amidst the debris.
From the sofa, James's mouth hung open. His hand trembled as he raised it to wipe the sweat from his brow.
Who was this man?
That kick was as powerful as a speeding motorcycle crash.
"No wonder he dared to take those Osborn shares…" James muttered, "He's not just brave—he's a monster."
Blood seeped from the corners of the Green Goblin's mouth as he struggled out of the wreckage. Rage painted his face behind the mask. "I'm not done yet!" he bellowed, ignoring the blood he spat through his mouthpiece.
Fueled by fury, the Goblin lunged forward, fists swinging, counting on his enhanced strength to turn the tide.
But Nathan was already moving.
He watched the incoming punch with the ease of a seasoned fighter. "Your technique is garbage," he said, stepping aside casually. "Full of openings."
He returned with a jab—clean and precise. It hit the Goblin square on the jaw.
BAM!
The Goblin's head snapped back from the force.
He roared and threw a knee toward Nathan's gut.
Nathan sidestepped again, spinning into a second whip kick that slammed into the side of the Goblin's skull.
THWACK!
The Goblin's body flipped in mid-air and hit the floor with a dull thud.
Still, he refused to stay down.
Over and over, he lunged.
And over and over, Nathan dismantled him.
Every punch blocked, every kick evaded. Nathan was a blur of precision and power, his strikes sharp as knives and just as dangerous.
The Goblin's brute strength meant nothing without skill. His movements were wild and erratic, driven by rage—not training. And without his gadgets, thanks to the EMP, he was just a madman in an expensive costume.
Nathan never gave him a moment to recover.
He struck low, swept the Goblin's legs out from under him, then brought his elbow down on the back of his neck.
SMASH!
The Goblin crashed into the ground again.
Blood now leaked from under the mask.
He tried to crawl away, pain wracking his body.
"This can't be happening…" he muttered through broken teeth. "I'm supposed to be invincible…"
But the fear in his voice betrayed him.
On the couch, James had long since abandoned all hope of understanding what was going on.
The fear that had once frozen him had morphed into disbelief.
Was the Green Goblin weak?
Or was Nathan just too damn strong?
James stared wide-eyed as Nathan delivered a final, bone-crunching uppercut.
"You picked the wrong fight."
BANG!
The Goblin's head snapped backward.
He collapsed—unconscious.
The room fell silent except for the soft hum of static from the broken devices and the quiet breathing of two men—one standing victorious, the other slumped in defeat.
James could barely speak. He opened his mouth. Closed it.
Then he simply muttered, "...Unreal."
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