On the twentieth floor of Oscorp, in the laboratory that once belonged to Professor Curt Connors, the man currently seated there was obviously no longer the Connors who was busy on Ryker's Island researching limb regeneration and prosthetic technology.
In his place sat Professor Miles Warren.
Unlike the days when Connors worked here, when the lab had been filled with white mice, vials of reagents, and all manner of scientific instruments, the space had now been expanded to nearly half the floor. Glass tanks containing various biological organs preserved in fluid could be seen everywhere, along with one massive machine of unknown purpose.
At first glance the laboratory looked grim and macabre, but for a company like Oscorp that had risen to prominence through biotechnology, such sights were perfectly ordinary.
Professor Miles Warren was a genius in the fields of genetics and cloning, and had once been a professor of biochemistry at Empire State University. His research direction of research was completely different from Connors's. Every arrangement in the lab was therefore tailored toward genetics and cloning.
Yet today the protagonist was neither Miles Warren nor his equipment. It was another genius in biochemistry whom Warren himself had recommended and brought into Oscorp: Professor Michael Morbius. He was also a physician who had achieved extraordinary accomplishments in the medical world, the youngest scientist of Greek descent ever to win a Nobel Prize.
At this moment he sat in a specially made insulated chair, torso completely bare, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. His slightly curly black hair was tied back in a short ponytail, and his face carrying the melancholic air that was uniquely his.
Besides the two professors, Harry Osborn was also present in the laboratory. He looked at Morbius with some concern and asked the fourth person in the room:
"Max, based on your experience, is this really safe?"
Max Dillon, Oscorp's top-tier senior electrical engineer, had been summoned to the lab. He was currently attaching various electrode patches to Professor Michael Morbius's exposed skin.
"One hundred percent safe, Mr. Osborn," Max Dillon replied solemnly. "In fact, the current is extremely weak. It won't cause any pain at all."
Harry glanced at Morbius. Seeing the man who was about to undergo the electrotherapy nod in agreement, Harry finally relaxed a little.
"Harry, just think of it as a rather unusual physical exam. No need to worry," Professor Miles Warren said with a smile.
"I'm more worried about Professor Morbius's condition…" Harry muttered, still looking troubled.
From the very first day Michael Morbius joined Oscorp, Harry Osborn had known about the rare blood disorder so unique that it could practically be named after the man himself. Harry couldn't bear to watch a once-in-a-generation genius in biology waste away and die from illness. That was why he had kept Morbius on: both in the hope that Oscorp's biotechnology could cure him, and in the hope that pairing him with Warren would push Oscorp's technological capabilities to new heights.
"One, two, three!"
Warren ignored whatever Harry was thinking about. He simply stood at a nearby console, counted down, and pressed the button.
Harry's heart leapt into his throat.
Fortunately, Professor Morbius showed no reaction at all. He merely tilted his head back with that signature melancholy expression and stared at the ceiling, even though the brooding look felt a little out of place paired with his near-naked body.
The treatment lasted nearly half an hour.
The lab's heating was on, so Morbius wouldn't catch a chill.
Still, the moment it ended he shot up from the insulated chair, retreated to a corner to throw his clothes back on as quickly as possible, then immediately pricked his fingertip with a blood-collection device and placed the bead of blood that appeared under a microscope.
Harry Osborn, Miles Warren, and even Max Dillon watched him nervously.
Though Professor Morbius was a man of few words, his warm heart and countless small acts of kindness had already earned him a quiet but solid reputation within Oscorp. Even someone like Max Dillon, who barely ever interacted with the professor, hoped to hear good news.
But Morbius only stared at the electron microscope's screen and gave a melancholic little shake of his head.
"It failed."
"Oscorp will spare no effort to help you," Harry was the first to step forward and comfort him. "We'll definitely find a way to cure your illness."
"If Professor Connors were still here, we might have been able to use his regeneration technology to simply create new blood for you…" Miles Warren added, trying to keep Morbius's spirits up. "I'll do everything I can to track him down during this time."
Harry's lips moved as if he were about to speak, but when he saw the silent Morbius he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud. Instead he leaned close to Warren's ear and whispered:
"It's no use. I've already looked. Other than the occasional regenerative stabilizer he anonymously supplies to Metropolis General Hospital, I haven't found a single trace of Connors."
"Gentlemen, if there's nothing else, I'll take my leave. I still have a lot of work waiting," Max Dillon said. He wasn't good at comforting people, so he simply excused himself.
Harry nodded. "Of course, Max. Even though the treatment didn't work, you still gave up your time for this. I'll have Finance cut you a bonus."
Max didn't refuse; he needed the money to support his big family. He merely dipped his head gratefully. "Thank you."
"Engage all functions of the Arkham suit. Full analysis and scan of Tony Stark's body."
A little over a hundred meters from Stark Industries, inside an empty room of a nearby building, Batman, clad in the Arkham battlesuit, issued the order to the Oracle AI.
"Executing immediately, Bruce," Oracle replied.
A human silhouette quickly outlined itself across Batman's white lenses, followed by the skeleton (the easiest part to scan), then blood vessels and body temperature.
Ten-odd minutes later, an extraordinarily detailed three-dimensional model of a person appeared in Batman's display—far more intricate than even the most advanced medical anatomical diagram.
In the chest cavity of that model, three metal fragments (two large, one small) floated in different veins, constantly trying to drift toward the heart with the flow of blood.
Yet thanks to the miniature arc reactor embedded in Tony Stark's chest, they were held in place by electromagnetic force, unable to reach the heart and remaining exactly where they were.