Doctor Connors balanced the serum in his deft fingers. Decades of one-handedness had created the necessity for dexterity and strength in his remaining hand. His wife occasionally joked that his hand was superhuman. But it did not always compensate for the baseline abilities of any other human. He would give anything to get his arm back... anything.
But that's what came down to it, didn't it? He had a choice now: allow unethical experimentation on unwitting subjects... or choose the one willing subject he had available: himself. And if this batch was a failure... there would be no one to fix him. It all came down to what he could live with. Could he live with only one arm? Or being responsible with the fates of who knows how many victims if this serum didn't work? It was all about what he could live with.
He had gotten this far with only one arm. Many, many veterans had been less fortunate in coping. Rather than sinking into himself, his loss had driven him outward, motivated him to make the world a better place.
The jury was still out on his success.
He could prevaricate no more. Shuffling the syringe in his fingers, he pushed the needle into his arm. The ultimate gamble... for the realization of his dream. Human evolution-and his legacy-was about to take its next step as it seeped into his veins, for better or worse.
Miles away... Peter Parker felt a tingle in the back of his neck. Trouble was coming... something horrifically bad.
And then Gwen's dad came into the room.