After a low, ominous rumble echoed across the skies above New York City, dark clouds began to swirl and gather, pulled by an unseen force as if nature itself was preparing to unleash fury.
Then—BOOM!
A violent thunderclap split the heavens, and a thick bolt of lightning crashed down from the clouds, cutting through the night like a divine sword. It struck Osborn Tower, one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city, with terrifying precision. In that moment, the entire skyline of New York was illuminated in an eerie, electric-blue glow.
Inside Osborn Tower, workers pulling late-night shifts or stuck doing overtime immediately felt the shock. Their ears rang. Their heads buzzed. The explosion of thunder was deafening, almost unnatural.
That surge of electricity didn't stop with the dramatic light show. No—it tore through the tower's wiring like a tsunami, surging into power lines, Ethernet cables, and backup generators. The electric current raced directly into a specific floor—Floor 23—where a low-level maintenance worker named Max was on his last job of the night.
Crackling!
The circuit breaker in front of Max suddenly exploded in a shower of sparks. Arcs of lightning shot from the panel, dancing like angry spirits along the wall. Max, who had just finished reconnecting the final power relay, leapt back in shock, eyes wide.
His heart sank when he saw what had become of his work.
"No… no, no, no," he whispered, staring at the smoking breaker.
Everything he had just fixed had been obliterated.
The storm outside had rendered any further repairs suicidal. Touching live wires now would be an invitation to death. But Max knew what this meant—if the power wasn't restored, he would be fired. All his hard work, gone. His job, gone. His stability, gone.
He clutched his head in despair.
"I just finished fixing it... now it's all gone? Because of lightning?" he muttered. "Why is it always me? I didn't do anything wrong! Why is it always me?!"
Then came the sound of polished shoes hitting the floor. Max turned.
A man in a crisp Osborn suit stomped toward him, fuming. His face twisted with scorn as he saw the scorched breaker box.
"You're fired!" he roared. "Get the hell out of here, you useless piece of trash!"
Max raised his hands, trying to explain. "It wasn't me! Lightning caused this—it's not my fault!"
But the man wasn't listening.
"You worthless idiot! What kind of garbage are you?! You're nothing! Do you know who I am?! I have power! You're just dirt!"
That was the moment something inside Max snapped.
His face twisted. His eyes bloodshot. A lifetime of frustration and humiliation boiled to the surface.
"You think you're better than me because of your status?" Max screamed. "You think we're disposable?! You high-and-mighty bastards exploit people like me, then throw us away like garbage!"
He took a step forward.
"Do you even know what people are capable of when they're pushed to the edge?!"
Then, with a roar of pent-up rage, Max shoved the man backward—right into the sparking circuit breaker.
"NO!!" Max yelled in horror as the man flailed, grabbing Max's shirt and dragging him in too.
BOOOOM!
A second surge of electricity coursed through both men. The man in the suit howled in agony as his body was scorched from the inside out, skin blistering, muscles contracting violently, bones snapping under stress.
The current sliced through him like a million glass shards. Organs failed one by one—lungs, kidneys, heart. His body jerked unnaturally. Within seconds, he was gone—reduced to smoldering charcoal.
The current didn't stop there.
It surged into Max.
Max screamed. But it wasn't a normal scream—it was something primal. Animalistic. Agonizing.
And yet—as the electricity flowed into his body, something unexpected happened.
Instead of killing him, the current merged with him. His skin began to glow with a faint, unnatural blue light. The pain was unbearable, but he wasn't dying. Not like the other man. His body absorbed the energy, began to change.
Then—silence.
The lights went out.
And when they came back on, Max—no longer the same—stood in the middle of the destroyed electrical panel, glowing faintly.
Sparks danced across his arms. Electricity coiled around him like a living aura.
He looked down at his glowing hands, eyes wide.
"I... I feel it," he whispered. "Power. Real power."
Then he grinned.
"I'm not a nobody anymore... I'm powerful! I'm finally... powerful!"
He walked out of the breaker room and into the hallway, his expression twisted with satisfaction and fury.
"This place... this cursed place… should be destroyed!"
With a casual flick of his wrist, he unleashed bolts of electricity.
BOOM! BOOM!
Trash cans exploded. Walls cracked. Doors flew off their hinges. Sparks lit up the hallway like fireworks.
Employees screamed and fled.
"Isn't that Max?!"
"The maintenance guy?! What the hell happened to him?!"
"He's a monster!"
"Run!! He's going to kill us all!"
Max laughed wildly.
"Run! That's right! You should be afraid of me!"
He blasted desks, computers, lights—everything exploded in a storm of electricity.
"This company is rich, right? Well, maybe I'll rob them! Let's see how rich you are when I'm done with you!"
He marched toward the finance department like a man possessed.
At that moment, alarms blared. Security forces poured in with rifles.
"Freeze! Don't move!"
But Max didn't even blink.
Electric bolts exploded from his hands, sending several guards crashing into the walls.
Nothing could stop him.
Meanwhile, in Osborn Tower's executive wing, Norman Osborn had just finished a late-night meeting. He was exhausted—but just as he prepared to leave, a call came in.
"Mr. Osborn—emergency on the 23rd floor! Armed personnel are down! Someone's using electricity as a weapon! He's heading for the finance office!"
Norman's eyes narrowed.
"Understood."
He rushed into his private office, heading straight to a wardrobe. He opened a hidden compartment behind it.
Inside: the Green Goblin armor, his older model suit—still intact, still dangerous.
"I kept you for a reason," he muttered, pulling it on.
Moments later, Norman flew out the window on his glider, armed and armored.
He swooped in, breaking through the building's glass, facing off against Max in the hallway.
Max turned, eyes glowing.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm the one telling you to stop," Norman said calmly. "Turn back before it's too late."
Max sneered.
"You're just like the rest of them. You want to stop me? Try it!"
Electricity gathered in his palms, firing two massive bolts.
Norman twisted midair, dodging expertly.
He launched several flying blades, but Max dodged them, then retaliated with a stronger surge.
BOOM!
Norman took a direct hit to the chest. His armor smoked. He was slammed into the wall with tremendous force.
The pain hit instantly. His suit crackled. He couldn't move.
Max laughed.
"You can't stop me! No one can!"
He ran for the finance room, giddy with power.
Employees cowered. No one dared to stop him now.
But deep within Osborn's underground lab, something else was happening.
Inside the isolation chamber, Nathan sat still.
He was undergoing his latest replication experiment.
His ears twitched.
Suddenly—the transformation began.
Nathan's hearing exploded to new levels.
He heard everything—every whisper, every footstep, every secret conversation.
He covered his ears in agony as sound poured into his brain like a tsunami. The pain was unbearable. Sweat streamed down his face.
His enhanced hearing was too powerful. It was like every sound in the city was screaming inside his skull.
Outside the chamber, Emily—the young mutant spider girl—watched in alarm.
She pawed at the glass, whining nervously. Her wide eyes fixed on Nathan.
But Nathan clenched his jaw.
He endured.
Bit by bit, his brain adapted.
The sounds began to filter. He could now isolate them. Focus on individual voices. Dim the background.
He suddenly caught a thread.
Norman's voice. Screaming into a phone.
He heard guards reporting injuries. Heard the name—Electric Man.
His eyes snapped open.
Lightning crackled in them.
"The Electric Man… is dead."
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