Two weeks before...
People only accept to sit a mere centimeters near each other while inside a giant metallic tube, with uncomfortable seats and still for an only reason: if you shut up and hang in there, you'll reach the place you desire.
''Safety is a paradise''; don't know if it's meant to be taken as an irony, or as something literally spoken. Silence is cozy, and I feel well knowing that the turbine is still spinning. Anyway, a new adventure sure will be awaiting us at Florida, this before it sinks in the ocean. Manhattan would to some years later, but all I want to enjoy is the present. Since we are scientists, Martha and I could be hired to do some research at Everglades. I am a specialist at reptiles, and to think I almost became one... Weren't for those near me, I would be gone. Only my arm, and the dream of regenerating it again to be. Not that it doesn't require much of an effort to hold my boy with an only hand. To read a book, however...
...Unlike the Loch Ness monster or the Bigfoot, some scientists believe that Gustave exists. A crocodile, said to be large as a salt water type, to have the circumference of an orca and teeth with the size of railroad pins; who inhabits an area of Rusizi park and the shores of Tanganyika lake, Burundi. It's said to have killed more than three hundred people. A bit exaggerated of a number, though alligators and crocodiles are able to cease the production of gastric acid, being able to survive without feeding for a year. Nobody can hold on of patience and prudence for such a long time...
I had to eat the peanuts, did I? But that's not the only reason I can't sleep. Thinking about reptiles, again? No, they don't scare me. To think I could do that, but that wasn't me. It was my work, my creation, and science doesn't offer an explanation to everything.
But problems, well... they happen. As long as there is hope in what you do, and in others, you shouldn't keep worrying about it.
Try to get into sleep only once.
Now...
We are like a couple.
Laurel and Hardy. Jekyll and Hyde. Peter and the Spider.
We will never be do part.
Loser. A world that doesn't belong to my dictionary. Words do not hurt as their meaning do. Yet, a horrible world is followed of its horrible meaning. Skin burnt, taste of ashes in the mouth, and a crowd ready to leave wounds at fallen heroes such as me. Before, I had a fight with Electro. A brief one, almost fatal. They don't bring knives, but who needs them when you have anything to say at the tip of a sharp tongue?
— Let's unmask the bastard. There must be a reward or something like that.
— A reward? We should be sainted.
— With my fist, I presume – it's only a bluff, but had I done no sort of reaction, someone else would.
— You've ruined my car, damnit! It was new! – I hear many voices, but they all sound the same – see? Spidey doesn't really care.
— And you to only care about a broken car.
— Oh look, he is threatening me.
— Can you blame him? – asked an old lady, which sort of looked like May. How I will explain these burnts for her... – I didn't saw any of you stop that freak who shots lightning. Only Spidey, whom you should had been helpful with.
— Yes, let's hold hands and offer something for this criminal!
— ...Why offer, if he can choose to steal instead?...
— ...He thinks he is better than us...
— ...Feeling hurt, hard ass?...
— ...Don't touch him, unless you want to become it...
— ...Mom, is Spidey alright?...
No, I'm not.
— ...This is just the beginning of the round. And I am on advantage.
— No, you aren't – then I heard a familiar voice. Too much familiar – are you deaf? Get out, NOW! – I never wondered that I would be defended by Eddie Brock again. They obey him, because he also have a gun to speak it. Followed of a criminal, and psychiatric record. What is he doing on the streets?
— Look, Spidey needs an assassin to be on its side – Eddie had no words, as he just showed the gun on its face.
— You doubt? – he asked, but that man already left, same for the crowd, who dispersed like iron dust attracted by a magnet – don't worry. It's just a toy gun.
— Heard the sirens? You'll be arrested.
— Better than let the justice of masses triumph. To think some people still believe I hold on the same intents of symbiosis. Well, I was hidden under it's disguise, after all. Now, what would they say if a kid had been found under one?
— You still know who I am?
— Nothing of my interest. I am alone this time.
— Eddie... despite what you've did, I can't let anyone threaten innocents.
— You and the law, except that I can only be judged by one, Peter.
Eddie doesn't seem to hold any grudges. As for me, I come home everyday with scars that can be hidden by sets of clothes. But Electro... he burnt me to a crisp. I took a travel to Australia in less than a minute. It's funny to say, but to feel is another thing. Geez, I can even get attached to the walls as before.
I'll have to be more careful if I want to reach home, or maybe I can take the longest route, in order to bring an excuse to whatever it happened to my skin. Aunt May has a poor heart, so I must be clear to her, without giving any suspicion that I am Spider-Man. Other than police sirens, ambulances came over, to rescue those attacked by Electro. If any of them die...
What else is left to prove? They see me as a menace too, though there are some who still believe I am the same as before. Can't say the same about Electro, or whatever it happened to him. He ain't a mutant, or even a guinea pig. Just a guy who happened to be at the right place, at the wrong time.
...
I defeated Spider-Man! I HAVE WON!
All I had to was to make him trip out of five meters. His feet and hands get attached to walls due a sort of static electricity, so all I did was to remove it. As for how I am able to cross throught objects, well... A magician doesn't reveal its tricks. And I'm not here only for fun. But... this ain't fun. This means nothing. No, it meant something. I mean, I defeated Spider-Man, but he ain't my biggest threath. He existed before I did, other criminals existed before we had to. I didn't asked to exist, not as Electro. The Spider had had a reason to fight against me, despite being powerless. He have something I do not have, stronger than my lightning.
I can slide throught railroads, as if its was nothing else. Had I been someone else, in other life... only a man to defeat Spider-Man, if there is a man inside. There is, no matter what he do, with our without reason. I had no reason to become Electro. I had no choice... and they say it was an accident. Who said it first? The one who commited it. I was at Empire State University, right. And he was there too...
— Connors! – I hear nothing but my voice. Echoes do not como because this ain't a cave, though its dark like one, and here a creature was given birth.
— What? – said someone. Not the one I expected, and I don't like to be teased – the door was locked.
— I unlocked it from inside – I said, but I'm not here to answer questions. Instead, I demand them, and I am my volts are already sounding convincing enough.
— Get out, or I shall call the police.
— Useless. You can't arrest electricity. Not in a jail made of iron bars.
— Who are you? – doesn't he know who I am? Is he asking it for someone who doesn't even know?
— Who am I? I am the proof that an awful day is enough for a man to become its monster. An awful day, and a bath on an eel tank, in my case – an empty tank, without any shards. The glass was replaced, and the eels are gone. But they aren't the ones who created me. They didn't invited me to this place, called for my name, my service...
— Anything I can do for you?
— Where is Curt Connors? You...
— I am Miles Warren, the manager of this lab – he said. I wasn't expecting his. So many things changed... I changed.
— Why are you here? Where is Connors?
— He is no longer required. You see, a valuable vial of gene cleanser dissapeared a month ago, which could had been prevented had this place shared of a better security, and a better lead. Unable of tolerating his misconduct anymore, I had no option but send a letter to the university, and Doctor Curt couldn't stay here.
— Security? Only because a single vial got stolen!? And what about my life! – does pushing a body against a table makes me more convincing? Or is it the sparkles around my eyes, watching a horse fat as a pig sweat.
— You choose to be an electrician.
— I could have chosen to be something else other than a tool! To walk on another path! To make my life better! But now... I can't – I threw away the doctor against a wall, and I do not care if his spine broke. He have bones to sustain his flesh, something I wish I could – it doesn't matter. All that is left for me to do... soon I'll met my creator. I can only settle a score with the one here on Earth, so I ask where is Curt Connors?
— He is out of the city – said Warren, without any discretion – far away.
— How do you know?
— His family took a trip to Florida weeks ago. Jacksonville.
— Fine. The rest is with me...
— Wait a moment. How do you suppose you're going there without a passport?
— I can slide throught railroads.
— It takes almost a week to get from Manhattan to that state.
— I can go faster.
— And what? How much time you have left?
— I... I don't know – the doctor is right. Flights take less time, and I can't be aboard one. But Connors... – how do you know about the Connor's location that well? Why be vigiliant with he and his family?
— Guarantee.
— Of what?
— Here – then doctor Warren showed me some files on his computer screen, as if he was willing to show them to me. Blackmail... the Sinister Six once had to rely on it. No, that was a ransom, which failed like the rest of plans, yet this Warren holds on of so much information about Connors, his family and what he is, other than a biologist. He could do anything for the sake of these files not be brought to media, or his family to be brought to oblivion.
— Why are you showing me this?
— I have something that can attract Connors to this city. The bait that will make him come immediately. Isn't that what you want?
— Thanks. But know that we want different things.
As a sign of acknowledgement...
The doctor and I holded hands.
For the first... and last time.
I never took a bath this cold.
Had this fight happened on January, all I would do was to lay on snow. Cold also burns, but I have been burnt anyway. With the bees dissapearing each day, it became hard for Aunt May to believe in what I said. She noticed something strange on my face and arms, to whic I replied to be an allergic reaction. As far as I know, I do not have any allergies, neither Aunt May knows. I once had chickenpox, which means I have less chance of getting it again while older. She only noticed it coming out of my arm, and my face, not the whole body. I look like a pepper, reddish more than my cheeks used to be when near a girl. Gwen Stacy called me, asking if I felt already. I replied, saying that I felt well, that allergies aren't contagious, and that I would be well soon. But this condition doesn't prevent me from getting at college. I will be mocked, like always, with a bit of inspiration this time.
To think I had to lie for the woman who took care of me as if I was her son... been lying since I became a hero, and nobody to listen to what I have to tell. And when I have something, words fail with me. Remember when you fought against Electro for the first time? When you refused to help him, when Parker fled like a coward for a spider act like a coward in same way. There are some people that you can talk with, and others that you can only rely with your fist. Electro became untouchable, my fists crossing his body, and words that had no effect. Other than letting me fall from a building, crush into a car, and be blamed for not being helpful. And when Eddie offered you help, he did it on the worst way, by threatening innocents with a gun. Was it the right thing to do? To whom should be put the blame? I should have sent the pictures I took for the Bugle, but I do not want to see myself like that on the front cover.
Well, I have no choice. I am doing this for Aunt May, and Uncle Ben too.
— Throw the ball, Billy! I can grab it.
— For sure?
— For sure.
— Right.
A club can be holded by an only hand. It ain't heavy as a javelin, but I don't want to lose that ball with a homerun. Or break another window, and be blamed in the place of my son. That's what are adults for, besides paying accounts. Some do not want to have sons because they cost much money. Those who have enough riches do not have time to afford with them. Pant. All kinds of animals have their ways of estabilishing equilibrium to nature, pant... and only a few to remember or care that they sweat. Pant... It's the end of a sunny day, and soon it'll get a bit cold. The water on the beach is warmer, yet only a few people go there at this time. Billy arrived from school not a while ago, and still shares of a plenty of energy. As for his father, though...
— Pant... Pant... Okay. That's enough for today...
I'll be preparing dinner instead of Martha. All I have to is hold on a spoon and keep an eye to the pasta. It has not been that long since I turned the kitchen into a lab for me to prepare foods with the help of physics and chemistry. Out of the many things I did before, like raising genetic-engineered spiders, or... well, It's kinda strange when you get to feel pity for rats, as if their lifes were worthless since they are given birth. In fact, had not been for them, many lifes would end in a worthless way. Or ever be afforded of living, like Billy there. He is doing math exercises about proportion and Veen diagrams at same time. No wonder why math books are the biggest ones, and why every teacher seems to be in a hurry, same that unfortunately can be said to its students too. At least, Billy ain't putting his homework to be done tomorrow, and I know that he is doing his best. He have the best mother around the neighborhood, by the way.
After dinner served on table, maybe I can afford of some rest. I said maybe, since I always check if there are emails in my box. It ain't hard to type with the keyboard of a notebook. Well, why do they never use mouse in movies... Just point the arrow here, click, see the email; a hundred of them. Spam goes to trash bin. Save the pangolins? I'll do that donation later. There is a new message here, dated from today. Marked as important... Let's see.
Dear Curt Connors.
I know.
I'll be awaiting for you at the Empire State's Observatory.
When?
If you really care for those near you, or do not want anyone to know you have a reptile's brain, come soon.
Until tomorrow's evening.
It was a short message, with something frightening on it. Could had been a prank, but I do not want to risk laughing at last. They know what? Do they?... that I am, no... that I was the Lizard. Out of the people who know I am, the only one who would send me this mail... Must be Warren, that idiot. He was the one responsible for testing weapons on humans, so did I, even thought I was unaware of growing more than an arm that day. Now,why is Warren doing this with me? I do not represent any menace. And why sent this mail only now, when what happened before happened months ago? There is no time to make people turn on to a side, as long as they are willing to reveal something that hurts only for one of us. I can't even have both arms made of same flesh, but at least I have a family to prevent me from collapsing.
— Did they asked for money? – asked Martha, on the other side of bed.
— No. But just in case...
— Where are you going, dad? – Billy was there, standing on the other side of the door. As easy as it is to listen, it was easy for his hands to open the knob. Children... do not underestimate them, but anyway...
— This has nothing to do with you, Billy – soon as I said it, my son began to look into my eyes. To see if they changed of shape.
— Does this have anythign to do with... with... are you my dad?
— Billy... – then I kneeled in front of my son – I swore that I would never turn myself into a guinea pig of my experiments. Even if that meant that I could grow back an arm, help millions injured by car accidents or handicappeds since birth, I still couldn't make someone alike you grow from the ashes.
— Dad... – it's easy for Billy to hold me with both arms, and for I think about crying as a body's reaction made in order to take the excess of magnesium out of your eyes. That's one of the meaning of shedding tears, while the another...
— Since I promised you something, can you promise something back?
— What that would be?
— Take care of your mom for me.
— Will you be back?
It ain't right for a child go at school with the thoughts of his father dying. This is unnaceptable... Then I went downstairs, only to leave out of the front door. I said nothing to Billy, because I already said what I meant to. I can still purchase a trip to NY if I go to the airport quickly. I just want these things to end soon, except tomorrow.
...
According to Frankfurt's school, there has been a growth of mass cultures.
If they are harmful or not, it depends of the scale. For a single person struggling to be acknowledged, accepted by majority, a personal goal in the midst of gray times... Like Churchill said, "never let a good crisis go to waste"; at times when you feel unsure about the future, what is hatred for another or not, if jealousy can corrupt a heart, the myth that an inner talent awaiting to be released can be proved to exist for anyone. Content sent to libraries that is saw by many but do not share of any value, and books rottening on tables, unknown authors expecting for any validation, coexisting at same reality. This doesn't only apply to books alone, or the ones who wrote and read them. There is a plenty of people, and 700 millions song to play, and 1.001 lists of 1.001 things you need to do, except die. Nobody asks to die, but to keep doing any of these efforts is killing us all.
Our faces are like books, pages hidden under more pages. You can read this story, but not picture the face of whoever created it. You can make your own story, but remember, one choice at time. You are alone, this time. And my first choice... was to save Peter Parker, no matter if he is Spider-Man or not.
— ...Yes, I know. Miles Warren is dead. A heart attack? Well, nobody who received such amount of electricity could be alive. He always carried a gun on its pocket, but not at the moment. Had he a way to defend himself... fine, Jean – standing on his desk, Captain Stacy kept talking to someone at the phone, before he turned to me, and notice I was there – no matter what your psychiatrics says now, you are still showing signs of being what you were before, Mr. Brock.
— So, this ain't part of the therapy?
— And what if it was? Would it prevent you from doing whatever you want? – he asked, now showing me the weapon I holded in both hands before – we know it's a toy, but still, if you show a gun to people, they think its charged.
— That was the intention – I said, looking to his face. They think I am a criminal, like the rest. Had I been one, my hands wouldn't had been freed.
— We heard from witnesses that Spider-Man was there, and you threatened to shoot the crowd around. Now, what if he wasn't there? Why would you be carrying this weapon around? – Captain Stacy has a point, so do I.
— Protection.
— Of whom?
— Many want a piece of me. Including the cops, and maybe even you, Captain. Remember when we put your daughter in danger?
— We?
— Yes. We worked together, but now, there is only me.
— I can agree with that – suddenly, we heard another voice. Muffled, beneath a mask... at the window, the one who I sparred the life stood. It was Spider-Man, and only I know who he truly is.
— What are you doing here? – asked Captain Stacy, surprised as I do – if the force and you are saw working together...
— It doesn't matter – said Spidey, walking into the room. He doesn't face anyone, because he have no eyes for a single person – you from the police are the best when it comes to keep secrets. It's like stealing a weapon out of a weapon's shop.
— We do not work like this.
— Not everything works as it should. Has any of your guards faced Electro recently?
— Electro? – I asked. Not with surprise, since I knew something about him, so did Spider-Man and Captain Stacy, turning their faces to me – I... I saw Maxwell, and he began to cross throught the trees, the lightpoles... as if he was a ghost.
— Ghosts do not exist – given the tone of his voice, and a brief silence, Spidey didn't seemed to believe in his own words. And I can't say that much for someone wearing a mask – well, spirits are commonly tied to religion, so they are likely to exist. But that's not the question, or the reason I am here, and Electro can be anywhere.
— Question is... where, and when did Electro began to show these abilities? – after Captain Stacy said it, followed of a brief silence, heads thinking... the phone rang, disrupting the silence of before. Captain Stacy took it, as Spider-Man came closer – yes? Uh-huh... what!? Does he? Fine. I'll be here, quickly.
— Who was? – asked Spider-Man, soon as the Captain turned off the phone, expressing worry on its face
— It was from Ravencroft Asylum. Officer Carter said that Electro is still on its cell.
— What!? Then, how do you explain the fact I fought against him recently?
— It couldn't had been him, but something done by Mysterio, for example. He can manipulate special effects very well.
— What I faced earler was no special effect – said Spider-Man, tooking one of his gloves out, exposing his hand and arm's skin, still showing signs of burnt – given that I have received a huge amount of electricity for real...
— Well, this doesn't make any sense for me – said the Captain, wearing a jacket, opening a drawer with its gun inside, and I am here, sitting and doing nothing but being a witness.
— No. It's starting to have a sense, to begin with. Everything has a logical nature, no matter if it exists, or do not, and I know Electro is a real threath.
— And what about me? Can I go too? – following Spidey, I had to say this.
— Other than returning to your cell, why? – the Captain asked, looking right at me.
— I feel that I have something to do with Maxwell. Too much power on its hands... I also know how it feels. We all know, in a way. But now that I am powerless, I... I don't even know what I should do.
— Nobody knows what to do when put in liberty – said the Captain, leaving the front door in an instant.
— Freed? But what about Max...
— I don't think there was any Maxwell at home, Eddie – said Spider-Man, with the voice of Peter, and a hand upon my shoulder – but if there is one, I'm sure that I'll be able to make him come back – and soon as he said it, he left out of the window, followed of the sound of sirens and webs shot out of his hands. I wonder who's paid to clean that mess, but guess those webs disappear over time.
Now that I am free, I can live my life... this if you can live only with $10,00.
...
The Ravencroft Asylum.
Where it began... and where it ends. I hope there is an end for this. My head have been aching since yesterday, unceaseless. I don't have a single idea of how Electro found a way to cross walls. This looks like a Twilight Zone episode, but even if it was, it wouldn't make that much of sense. Electricity travels, flows in a close space, not throught it. There are barriers for everything, including the cells of each of these criminal masterminds, some who aren't criminals at all. John Jameson is still there, and it wasn't my fault that each day he is submitted to shock therapy, in order for its powers to cease. So I ignore its screams, because I know he is screaming. Somewhere, Electro is making victims, running away like a frightened child, but he doesn't fear lightning anymore. He became it, after all.
— Is Electro's cell this dark? – I asked to Stan Carter, of the police force, standing near what used to be Electro's cell. He ain't here, but Carter seems to disagree.
— He must be on hibernation – said Carter, as we looked to the glass of the security door. Nothing, but darkness, and a silhouette within. Could be Electro? I doubt.
— Must ain't the right word at the moment – said Captain Stacy, holding his gun, prepared for action. He couldn't kick the door like they do in the series, unless he wanted to be in a hospital, so he took a card out of his pocket, which he grabbed with the staff, and opened Electro's cell. Still dark, until I lighten it with my face. The spider-lantern on my belt and the one Captain Stacy brought with him gives a clear vision of what was clear before: Electro ain't here. And that silhouette, well...
— This is just clay – I said, touching that sculpture. I never thought Maxwell was a good artist – why is it there?
— It was his only passtime – said Carter – clay is a bad electrical conductor, after all.
— And that's not his only work of art – said Captain Stacy, looking to the walls washed of clay all over it. The red hue coming out of my lantern makes things difficult. It's like a portrait of Francis Bacon, without the monster – well, did nobody came here to clean his mess?
— Nobody ever came here, before it all became dark – said Carter, looking to the ceiling. The lamps were still there. Everything was, except the patient.
— Dark? – I asked, with a suspicious look in my face. Right, the mask doesn't have mouth, but inside there is a voice. A voice... – are you kidding me? Which kind of institution is this?
— I know, I know. They are supposed to help people beneath masks. By the way, before anesthesia came, people ignored the pain of an arm being cut. After being submitted to anesthesia, only a few of this generation can still ignore such pain – the older you get, the better you get? I suppose this is the asylum's motto. I said nothing to Carter, he has nothing to do with the way this place works, though...
— The camera is broken – Captain Stacy said, pointing to that surveilance camera – expected of someone who can control electricity.
— No, wait... this model is special. It was made specifically to resist electricity – said Carter, holding a paper with all the camera's specifications.
— The shell, or its interior? – I asked, in regards to the broken camera, which couldn't be.
— Well, Electro couldn't have penetrated inside. Besides, his armor weakens its powers.
— It doesn't. Only makes an impression of weakening. Besides, he crossed throught one of these walls, Carter. One which leads outside. How do you explain this?
— I'm trying as much as you do, Spidey.
— He tried. How much he tried...
— What do you mean? – asked Captain Stacy, soon as we all got out the cell, but still the air is heavy like a drug.
— Why is that cell dark? When did it became like that?
— Since when Maxwell occupied it. He had no complains – said Dr. Ashley Kafka, arriving at the scene – I tried to help him the best way I could, but Maxwell was so cold in all my tries. He only wanted to be called by Electro, as if the mention of that name made him stronger.
— Not only stronger, but someone – I said, looking to Dr. Kafka – or something. All living beings share of an irrational fear of dark. Why would Electro turn himself off? Is it because he is no longer afraid, doctor?
— Perhaps.
— Doctor... You knew Maxwell better than any of us do. Did he had a reason to be out? Any fears, insecurities, anything that might help us?
— Nothing, Spider-Man. Like I said, Maxwell wasn't the kind who accepted what he became, or the one who asked for any help. He could do everything by himself, prefered this way. Though, all the times when he put that helmet out, besides not feeling any shockwaves, I still... could see a face...
— I wonder if same can be said about this camera – said Carter, after Kafka left, with no expression on her face. When you become a doctor, you are supposed to help people. And Carter said something for me about the camera, right.
— It's broken – I said.
— It couldn't be.
— Remember Titanic? Everything is made to be broken, no matter how much you say it can't be.
— Right. And what about the record? – said Captain Stacy, in regards to the camera. Broken, and what else?
— It's useless. What you see with the eyes, or with the camera, is just the past. You can't change it, and besides, I'm not interested about the when, but the why of Electro being able to cross throught walls – my skin still burns, so do a few of my words. Stacy ignores what I said, and goes somewhere, in order to retrieve what was inside the camera.
— I wonder how you climb them – said Carter, the only one who stood, besides me. He looked at me with accusing eyes, seeing a white void in the place of mine.
— It's one of my powers. Maybe the only one who works well, but that's not the matter.
— Look, we are facing an untouchable, and most of all, uncontrolable criminal who can't be taken by normal means.
— By normal, you mean chained in a handcuff?
— That's what I can do here in the dirt, while you fly in the skies.
— Spiders do not fly, Carter.
— Only the insects who headed to its web, right? Now, do they ever get out? Only the blood that feeds the spider, like a mother's milk.
— That's how nature works. Like ours, it requires an effort from each of us.
— And who are you to teach the right out the wrong, Spidey?
— Within, I am like you. I expect.
— You are expecting too much – I said, before silence came in. John Jameson screams are heard by a distance, and then it stops. This place is supposed to help people, not madden any of them. If I was Electro, I would try my best to be free by passing throught solid materia as well. But I'm not like him, I haven't suffered any accident. I knew what to do with my powers, who to protect, and... I lied. Uncle Ben is dead, and that's the truth. Each day, you hear the same words: With great powers, comes great responsibilities. What is responsibility when you can blame another for your failures, and what are powers when you do not care for consequences? When you realize uncle Ben's worse were only yours, and you never taught them to anyone, but something else with these fists...
— Where have you been, Captain? – I asked to Stacy, who came in with a face of disgust, or something like. Even thought, a thing rare to see, coming from a member of the police force, who saw it all.
— There is nothing worth on this camera's record. Nothing worth to see again.
— Now, oes this clay has anything to do with the case? – Carter asked, about the walls found within Electro's cell.
— Nothing to do, except that what was once human tried to be one.
— He doesn't feel hunger, thirsty, remorse... nothing. Electro became what many men ever wondered to achieve: an immortal – so we all heard a voice, which belonged to none of us. It came from the walls, no... out of a cell, hosted by a familiar figure, still chained by its metallic tentacles.
— I thought you were at Ryker's prison, Otto Octavius – I said, as we approached from its cell.
— Schools, orphanages, supermarkets... haven't you ever wondered why they look the same? Everything is a prison, one after another – that wasn't my question, but Octavius said it anyway. We aren't even here for his, only because he mentioned something about Electro.
— And you must have found a way to talk with us, as well – said Captain Stacy. I also began to wonder how could he, before the doctor himself could clarify.
— Nothing that my genius can't do to solve problems. Sure, I am smart, enough to assign a contract to a company interested in brain donations for a future research – besides smart, Octavius is such a prideful little bastard – as for these tentacles, I can't do nothing but accept that they are part of me. Accept that we change, forced or not, something Electro doesn't seem to agree.
— What do you know about Electro? – I asked to Octavius. To think I reached this point...
— We don't even know why Maxwell Dillion came to be like he is – said Carter – I mean, he should had been dead.
— That's why he crossed that wall. Only ghosts can do it so.
— I don't believe in ghosts. Sure, spirits are tied to religion, but there's nothing holy in Electro's lightning – I said to the doctor, who shared of an opposite view compared to mine.
— Spider-Man... tell me, why do you wear yourself as a superhero? How you came to be one? – he said, all of sudden. Must be a trap, or a trick, disguised as nothing else. A sound abruptly coming through the void, as if I do not feel empty enough. My eyes are empty, while the doctor wears shades.
— This has nothing to do with-
— Of course it does! Don't you see it? Or didn't you saw it?
— It? – I asked, before Octavius looked to my chest.
— The spider in your chest. Was there before?
— What do you mean?
— What does a spider has to do with you, Spider-Man?
— If you are interested to know, an irradiated spider bit me, and that's how I got these powers – that's all he have to know. My origin won't do any harm to nobody, since I never told anyone about the bite.
— Oh, I see... Each superhero has an origin. An accident, a miracle of science, a expected reaction in a few cases – somehow, I felt that Octavius was studying me, so later on he would use it against me, or even discover my secret identity. Thought, I didn't felt my Spider-sense reacting, so I must be overreacting. Well, after all that happened... As long as he is within this cell, he is no threat to anyone.
— What's your point?
— My point, Spider-Man, is that you wear yourself like this not only because you want to hide your secret identity, but show it as a hero, a thing people would comprehend in order to accept you. They all fear what cannot be understood, so that's why you expose a spider, the source of your powers, in the chest. As for Electro, he hides it, kept it hidden until now.
— Now?
— Besides a wounded mind, think that accident only result into a living battery?
— So... you mean that Electro had this power of crossing walls all along? – Captain Stacy was unsure as I, and Carter. We felt that we had been wasting time with Octavius, but nothing for him is a waste.
— Nothing comes from nothing. A disease can come out of the air, by contact direct with the skin, or with a spoon holded by the patient's hands... you may not agree with me with anything I say, except with that science is made of maybes. Just like life, and its choices chosen by your, or someone else. Maybe I should go left to grab my son at school, maybe I should go right to see grandma, but you wouldn't dare to cross a road outside the crosswalk, or would you?
— This is a waste of time, captain – said Carter, and I might agree with what he said.
— Everything is a waste of time, don't you think? – but the doctor had more to say as well – you give up from being what you dreamed to be into what society wants you to become. In other words, oppresion makes the new normal. Those who cross the road beyond the crosswalk aren't normal, but deemed as a menace to society. Nobody else other than Maxwell can glow in the dark, or shot lightning out of its hands. In the end, he'll be excluded from the rest, or worse, from himself. The worst already happened in past eras, so what prevents it from happening again?
— Do you know what Electro plans to do? – I said. None of us know what he's up to, but maybe Otto Octavius knows something.
— Well, there is so much to be done in life, but for someone who will live forever... how come you kill someone without live?
— So Electro ain't immortal?
— With such powers, anyone can be, Spider-Man. But nothing is meant to last forever, absolutely nothing made of materia. That's what Electro is... a piece of materia, deteriorating each day. That's why it began to glow weaker, its cell dark, and still that thing is called by 'he'. Is it due pity?
— So, you mean that Electro will be gone? Pfft... What a loss to society.
— Any kind of death is a loss, Carter – I had to say, but in a polite manner – we are speaking about a human being, sort of.
— You speak for them. Your kind and all – said Carter, with a straight look on me.
— I protect people. What Electro does is the opposite of what I do.
— You wear a mask. Is nobody without it. Caught in an incident which gave powers beyond comprehension... Now you say you two aren't equal?
— This is like saying that I am equal to Dr Octopus.
— And you are a spider. Don't think that this is a coincidence. The Vulture, Kraven, Dr. Octopus here, Rhino there...
— What do you mean? That because I came first, so did the others?
You came even before the Goblin made an appearance, and its last thanks to you.
— You should be thanked.
— Oh, really?
— Also, I'm not the only hero in this world, Carter.
— You really aren't – and so officer Carter shut its mouth, before I or Captain Stacy could do it so. It is better this way, other than proving it's point further. Also, Dr. Octopus stood quiet all the time, watching us. Whoever tallks whatever they want hears what they do not, so said aunt May once.
— You can talk now, Ock – I said. He's still quiet – I won't interrupt.
— Should I be any helpful? I'm a man of science, also a man of business. What shall I receive in exchange?
— If you're expecting for an one way out ticket of this place, you're out of luck.
— My lawyers are currently working on it, Spider-Man. Now, that brief silence of before... its all that I want. Deal? – a bit strange, but I also do not want to stay here any longer.
— It's fine – neither Captain Stacy wants to stay. I wonder how much time he spends on its job, but I know that Gwen can live on her own. She can live without Parker in her life... but I cannot. If not, there's nothing that can bring me back. Uncle Ben never knew I turned out to be powerful, and the way I used such powers... I could have turned in into someone alike Ock. Speaking about him...
— Well, I propose a theory of how Electro came to cross walls, if that's any helpful. So pay attention... Why chop down trees to fill in the gaps between rooms? Why melt sand to see the world outside? Man dreamt of doing the impossible, or something that mattered. Nothing matters for Electro, except its atoms. He needs them, everything is made of atoms. You see, well, you can't see atoms, but by theory, there is an empty space between its core and the eletrosphere surrounding it, together with protons and neutrons. Given such 'space', where all materia and the molecular chains that compose it are spread in such a disorganized way that another corpse can move freely. Think about a hand waving in the air, now increase the speed, and therefore, an atom can pass throught another's space in such high speed that it can cross a wall built of bricks, and with everything made of atoms and molecules sharing of same basic attributes, there it is... you can move from a space to another. Well, Electro can.
— Sorry – after a while as I tried to process all the information given, Carter had something to say – but this doesn't make any sense – and Ock had something to say too.
— Does it makes sense for a man who got hitten by a nuclear explosion become a green monster instead of being killed? For a rich to afford an artificial heart on its chest that powers its metallic suits? For a WWII soldier be found frozen in the arctic pole that melts each day? For a supercriminal to rule an entire country? The world is made of absurds, some you do not even take notice of. Sometimes, this world only sees sense when you force it to.
— It would require a high amount of energy for such thing to happen – I said, thinking about mithocondrias, and how they produce energy to a cell. Now we are speaking about a man who can shot volts out of its hands.
— That's why I said Electo can. And because he can, he can't. This if you haven't forgotten about Maxwell...
— What do you mean?
— There isn't only an Electro there, but the one who came first. A bit, that's enough to desestruturalize the entire process. An anomaly that can't be fixed, thus the deterioration began.
— Does Electro knows about it?
— Do he even care, to begin with? Now he's free, for a while.
— For how much time?
— This I do not know. But not for too much.
— One last thing: did Electro began to deteriorate before he came to cross walls?
— In a way, yes. Now, if you were in my place, Spider-Man... you would try to do everything in order to be free. Even sell your soul, if the devil wasn't already you
...
— ...Are you joking, right? Your name is junk here...
— ...You want to work at the force? Don't feel forced to...
— ...I don't think this is the right thing to do. Not at the moment...
— ...Why don't you try the private sector?...
— ...Mr. Kingsley told me that if you do not go away, he'll call the police...
— ...Now we have a special guest. A man who's trying to come back to society... Eddie Brock, also know as Venom!...
— ...We do not have any vacancy for your kind...
— ...We do not hire assassins...
— ...The Kingpin is out the town. With Bullseye in, we do not need you...
— ...So, how it is like to be an assassin?... Uh, sorry if I was a bit rude...
— ...Sure, you can't get hungry, but that's all I have. This if you have a bit of dignity...
— ...Do not even think of doing this. I have a gun, so you know...
— ...You are mean! Mean! MEAN!... Ya heard my son...
Anywhere I go, and I have no job. The opportunities are there, but not for me. What I became... What else do you have to lose? My self love, if you want to know. The little that remains in me, or in Eddie Brock. I am him, and what he became too. I let that creature take control over me, let anger lead me out of myself, hurt those whom I cared about, and those I do not even knew. At least, those suckers from the TV show lend me a bit of money. I may not be a millionarie, but this is enough for me to live a month, or two.
Want to be a ghost writer? One of them asked. I said no, since I already have my own ghost. Like him... can it be? In the past life, Curt Connors was my friend. He heads to the Empire State entrance, carrying a wallet. Maybe I can go there, at the top, just for the view, which ain't the case of the doctor. I haven't saw him for a while, but he seems angry. Had I been on its place, I would be angry too, but not too much. They may know I am what I was, but what the doctor was is kept as a secret, one of the few I could afford to this day.
— Dr. Connors? – I asked. He still recognized my voice.
— Is it you, Mr. Brock? – he asked back. Didn't believed I was in the streets.
— What are you doing here? – I said, as the doctor went inside. Almost as if he ignored me, in a hurry for something
— I have something important to deal with – nothing is that important to the doctor, other than-
— Does anybody know?
— What do you mean?
— Your secret – and then his face shared of that look, of a restless man awaiting for slumber. A look which gave me doubts of what would he do next, and soon I would knew what.
— Only you, me, Martha, my son, Gwen and Parker should know. Despite what Peter did, he didn't revealed my identity. Only the existence of the Lizard, which quickly vanished from the front covers – he said, as we entered inside the elevator, only us both – but still... it ain't gone, as long as someone other than us knows who he is. That's why I brought this as well – and in a quick moment, Dr. Connors showed me the tip of his gun.
— I wonder how security let you walk in...
— It's just plastic, unnoticed for metallic doors.
— Not for the cameras – I smiled for the one at the top of the elevator's doors.
— Whoever is doing this to me is commiting a far more serious crime, and a bluff may be better than resorting in eye for eye. Only the Lizard would... but I'm not him. I rejected him, together with an arm that won't grow again.
— You never had to resort to your arm to make your family grow up, Dr. Connors – I said, as I felt my weight lighten with the height. Must be the height, each floor above coming down to our feet. It's a day of less movement, so there isn't a lot of people around. If there is, they won't become victims. This is only between the doctor, and whoever is threatening him. And also me too, since the doctor is a friend, and I'm also in the need of proving something.
I can't get off my shadow, as much as the shadow can't get off me.
...
— Maxwell Dillion... That man alone can power an entire country, if he wanted – said Captain Stacy, as we sat inside his police car. He lended me a coffee, still warm, before he took the steering wheel.
— Might makes right, as it seems. Yet, what does Electro do ain't right.
— What you do isn't right as well, Spider-Man. In a way, you help people, while in other, you disrespect the law.
— Sometimes, the law doesn't work, Captain – as much as sometimes, coffee burns your tongue.
— That's why I am here to make it work. We are only humans, we can do horrible things, and the law is here so we do not kill each other in broad daylight. Kill and be punished, I mean. So, I wonder how come Electro could punch you. If he crosses throught objects, wouldn't his fists cross your face?
— I have been wondering about this too, Captain. If there's a force that sustains Electro, it's his willpower. That's why he haven't fell under the floor, and how he could punch me with a solid fist. It's just a theory, but it's better when things try to make sense than no sense at all.
— You speak like Octavius.
— But I'm not alike him. Maybe a bit, but I do not follow my selfish desires. Not anymore. I lose someone whom I cared about because I was careless, unprepared for what was to come. With time, I learned that there isn't only yourself, but another, and yet, I still keep commiting mistakes.
— To err is human. Learn from errs too.
— It's easy to say.
— Nothing is that easy. Most the time, I'm not even home to see Gwen. She ain't everything to me, because if I ever losted her, I would lost myself too.
— I know how you do fell. But when you treat someone as nothing, and when you lose it, you begin to feel like nothing too.
— You are just a kid, despite the work of an adult in your hands – and at the hands of the Captain, he holded a folder with some files and pictures – besides, we were able to break secrecy of this person in particular. Know him?
— Milles Warren... – Peter knows he took Curt Connor's place at ESU, but Spider-Man wasn't there. Only when Peter left the scene – in which way he's related to this case?
— Remember Molten Man? It's one of his creations. Maybe the last, given that someone had the favour of sending him to the electric chair.
— What does Electro had to do with him?
— I don't know, Spider-Man. For safety, Warren carried a gun with his, which disappeared or wasn't even in the scene, to begin with. It's hard to work in a case where there isn't any digitals around.
— Did anything else happened?
— Well, some files from the computer went missing. The detective proposed that Electro was in search of something. We later presumed that Warren may have made a change to Electro, which
unfortunately didn't sparred its life.
— Which kind of files does that computer host?
— Experiments, most of all. Abandoned, half-finished and complete. Since Warren was in charge of the lab, he must have made experiments on its own and sold them to Oscorp, alike the sub dermal
outfit. One of them may have caught the attention of Electro
— What would exactly get its attention?
— Uh... Maybe a cure for its condition?
— Then, why would he kill the only one who knows about it? Also, would he be interested in a cure, given such powers?
— He is dying. The least a person would do is keep those powers.
— I'm afraid that Electro is no more a person, despite all he had been doing.
— Well, only human beings feel the need of freedom – said the Captain, driving to the office. This ain't where I should be, so I put a hand out of the window, which may be wrong, but like the Captain said, sometimes the law doesn't work – wait. Where are you going, Spider-Man?
— Following my instincts.
But today, I'll make sure it does.
...
Afternoon. A hundred floors later...
The observatory once filled in of people is cast on light. A warm sun for the windows, and an edge taller than Beachy Head, built in concrete instead of green. The door opens, and the vision of this place is the same as it appears on portraits, except that all artists are dead. Eddie Brock and Curt Connors enter the room, and the sight isn't worthy of seeing, but the stench can't be hidden. There is none, not now. It happened now, recently, minutes ago, people where walking in, and they never came back. Somehow, Electro knew when Dr. Connors would arrive. With his electrical powers in a world build of electronics, he can hear everything, be connected to everyone except himself. He's losing it everyday, thanks to-
— Curt Connors – said Electro, in a raspy voice. He lost it, but words belong to same alphabet.
— I didn't expected you to be here, Maxwell.
— And I didn't expected that you would bring an invited. You would be a fool had you brought your son.
— Leave me alone. That's all I want...
— All I want is for you to smile – suddenly, a flash caught Connor's eyes, this before he felt pain in an arm. A hole was made on it, by a single bullet of a gun holded by Electro. It wasn't made of plastic.
— AAAGH! AAArgh! – the doctor falls, feeling an unmeasurable pain.
— Connors! Don't worry! You'll be alright! – Eddie Brock tries to aid, while Electro feels nothing, just a buzzing in the ear. Standing on its two feet, he slowly comes in, pointing the gun.
— The ambulance won't come. Only the storm remains. Heh... Now, ever had an awful day, Dr. Connors? Should I consider this your first? How does it feel to lose something that mattered? Your remaining arm, useless.
— Why are you doing this? – asked Brock, tightening its fist.
— Shouldn't I? You know, as much as I do, that this man, Curt Connors, is the Lizard – Electro looked to the face of the doctor, the agony slowly overcoming its body. Had him be able to enjoy it, to be satisfied in a way, this would be over. But it ain't before he decides – here, I have this pen drive, the only in Earth that shows the relation between the creation and its creator, before it all got deleted by the doctor here. How did this came in my hands? Well, Connors had such friends as Warren, a man whom this world won't miss.
— So, that's what you want? To be remembered?
— In which way? Think I'll be rewarded after I take care of the Jeckll and Hyde here? I'm dying because of him! His mere existence, which gave birth to mine... consider this shot as an accident too. As for you, I don't think so.
with a gun pointed to its face, Eddie had nothing to do but react. Not a thing he was advised to do, yet he have done so many things he couldn't. Save a life will be its first, besides his own. While Dr. Connors moans, Eddie Brock has no time to hear him but Electro, though he couldn't say what would happen next. When he thinks about Electro, he sees electricity, yet what he saw instead was a kick below the chin. His head of dazzle, an oportunity for a neck to be holded and a body pressed against a wall.
— This ain't your usual way of dealing with problems, Maxwell.
— So many unusual things happened with me. One more won't matter.
— Why aren't you using your electricity? Is it because you're occupied controlling the cameras of this room? I had been asking to myself how come nobody came in yet. How nobody noticed these bodies around...
— Don't worry. Soon, you'll join them, alike the doctor here.
— You've attracted h-him here. And... what about these people? What they had to do with any of this? Answer me! – Eddie Brock demanded, in a position where he couldn't demand, but be quiet and choke as well.
— They were on my way, if you want to know.
— Then why... d-didn't you p-put an end t-t-to me... e-earler? Wasn't I... in y-you-ur way too?... – the few worlds that came out of Brock's mouth sounded alike whispers to Electro. A rat's last breathes for a snake awaiting to savor its prey. Yet, despital all, Electro could hear them well, as if those questions were already there with him. So Electro releases Brock; he has nothing to do with this. Or maybe – and what about Spider-Man? You had the power, so why didn't you finished with his too?
— Why do you ask, if you already know the answer?
— As much as you do, Maxwell. Now, besides wandering to a room to another without a door, which other powers do you have?
— Did I ever asked to have powers?
— Have you ever wanted to become an asssassin with such? – those words hit Electro hard, deep on its shell. He was a former shell of itself already.
— I was killed by that doctor in order to gain these powers.
— You didn't harmed him with any of your powers. A gun can be holded by any person, even a kid.
— I was a person...
— Now you've became a frightened child.
— I'm not a child. I'm not afraid of lightning. Of anything...
— You shot Dr. Connors on the arm. He'll be fine, on purpose.
— I don't have purpose.
— Then let me give you one.
Eddie Brock came near Maxwell. He still saw him, despite not knowing very much since that night he began to glow a light that every day seems to be fading. Like a star, that dies million years ahead, still saw by the human eye. A pair of eyes, and hands coming to agreement. Little Brock knew that Electro had other plans, and that electricity was still on its control. With a touch, Eddie Brock can feel the scent of its skin burning, but not for too long. Shards of a glass window come float after being broken by the strenght of a spider.
— What a nasty coincidence for you to be here – said Electro, who let another of its victims fall on the floor.
— I don't think so. I put a tracker on Eddie's back, so I found him. And you too!
— You found him, but not me! – his worlds come out alike the ray shoot out of its hands. The spider jumps against the stream only to pass throught it, same who can't be considered to Electro's fist, hard as a brick – how did you knew I was here?
— Your interference... I heard you.
— Taking conclusions out of nowhere? That's now how you work! – so echoed throught the room a reasoning outside Electro's feet, which would have crushed Spidey's head had him not been quick.
— And this ain't who you are, Maxwell – the spider glued on the ceiling above said. All along, he tried its best, saying to himself that Curt Connors will be fine. He could pull Electro out, as they fight in a less crowded area, but how come if he insists to be passed throught? Then the man thinks, and the spider evades from the rays of lightning.
— Who's Maxwell? I AM ELECTRO!
— You can cross throught solid materia, control electronic devices, kill without feeling remorse
— Is this supposed to be a thanks?
— You should be thanked. Know why? Your powers, new and old, are growing more than you can take control of any of them!
— Do I need explanations, Spider-Man? The reason why I got these powers... is that there was no reason! – out of his mind, further of its self, the sound of a blender slashing fruits, a bad wire, a fork about to be put in a power plug by a child, or someone dumb like one... this is too much, even for Electro. He feels something, and can't take control over it. When the spider stands face to face, his arm crosses throught it, without doing harm to its inside organs. It just crossed. And the one who suffers the damage – AAARGHAAHHHH!...
— Now you understand, do you? A bit, to be fair. Even I am confused, Maxwell, if there's one here. Sure, without Maxwell, there wouldn't be any Electro, and without Electro... which powers do you have now? Can you hear a fly near the TV screen? A radio put at its loudest? Something in you is screaming. Everything is new, and your head is trying to put it all in place. But you can't be everything, and know why? Because you're still the same Maxwell, no matter if Electro is more than it.
— GRRRRHRRR... Shut up. You.. you are wrong. Electro won't go. I'll only fell better... better... WITHOUT YOU! – and so Electro took its helmet out, in order to unleash its full power.
— Now you are losing your head – with that said, the top of Electro, from its neck to the top of its head became translucid. When pulled out into a wall, Electro's head passed throught it. Spidey feared that next he wouldn't be able to engage offensive against the master of electricity, neither him could. Or maybe-
— Idiot! I can remove static electricity out the walls! – and so he did. No more that Spidey could use the walls on its favour. The room began to stink, and the only one who had nose and stomac was the one inside the costume. Now it's time to settle things down.
— Why haven't you thought about this before, champion? For everything you do, there is a cost – and so Electro lost the use of its hands and arms, but still he had a feet to pull Spidey against a window, which didn't broke itself, but a rib inside its flesh. But to kneel in agony was the least he could do – you won't do this, Maxwell.
— It's useless. He can't talk to you.
— And he would never kill these people.
— What is choice when you do not even know who you are or what shall become, Spider-Man?
— I made a choice, other than yours. You don't have a double life, a person in which you can rely to keep your sanity. One thing at time... Know what make us different from each other, Electro? Come in, I'll show you what – following the invite, Electro rushes into Spider-Man, who instead of fleding, clashes against the armor of its counterattacker. He ain't its enemy, or fiend... rather, he sees a fearful symmetry, with one smudge – we are almost equal, had not been for an only detail... I don't believe in bad days!
Electro was Electro, and the Spider was Spider.
— I don't believe in coincidences!
Maxwell and Peter weren't at home.
Yet, the one who suffered the most...
— And, most of all... I DON'T BELIEVE IN FATE!
The victory goes to the spider, who doesn't speak, watches the field of deceased insects, except its own kind. Yet, that voice... it was Peter's. Brock knews, after regaining consciousness, while the doctor lost its own. His pulse can be felt, slowly in decay. What keeps him alive? The smile of Martha? Helping Billy with its homework? Being there to see it all happen as if it didn't mattered, but they do? All that's left for Brock is to wonder. In case of Electro, he witnesses. The sun settled down at horizon, so does Electro. He slowly falls into quicksand, but there isn't sand. Even if there was, he can't feel, just pass throught. He screams, fear could be heard from its voice. The more translucid he got, easy it became to sink.
— You don't know? This is what happens when you use your powers for too long... they consume you.
— Help him, Peter!
Gravity still had a force, so it seems. Taken out of the trance by a friend, Spidey doesn't stand in the same place. He doesn't know in which place Maxwell is, or should where he be. If it's him, or Electro who's falling... both pass throught the office, where broken glass and paper lays on the ground. More floors ahead, already fifth of them. Electro or whatever is its name, for something without substance, tries to grab the floor, but its hands are slippery. Even if they were, they would hold for long enough. Instead, he falls again, wondering if there'll be an end, or something that stops him, or make him stop screaming.
— HELP!
He said it a few times, floors ago. Many were there, and couldn't help but see a fallen angel who doesn't have a ground to stand upon. A few cheer when Spider-Man arrives, wondering if he'll save Electro's life. Heroes are meant to save people, even their enemies. Norman Osborn had not been forgotten, neither uncle Ben, whose voice prevails over all. A voice that brings guilty and relief, and Maxwell feels nothing. The electricity of its arms is gone, just like its weight pulled in by gravity. It exists, just like him. He won't exist for too long. At the underground parking lot, the last place Spider-Man can go without falling, but walking, a thing Maxwell can't do, but keep falling, crossing throught the floor, disappearing and-
— MAXWELL! – the spider sheds its own scream, offering a hand to hold into nothing – you must concentrate! You must live! – something in his voice made what was meant to be nothing materializes into something solid, that can be holded. Without a face, but a hand to be pulled, Maxwell is still there, but not for long.
— Spider-Man... Can't you see? At the bottom, there's always a trapdoor.
— NO!
— You... the only one who cares when the curtain... comes down... for me – only Peter's voice echoed throught the parking lot. Below, he sees nothing but its shadow. The cars do not move out to the exit, to the light behind his back. Another tragedy to fill in Parker's life, and another shadow that stood upon his. It's only Eddie Brock, who came in out of the elevator.
— Peter...
— How is Dr. Connors?
— He'll be fine. I called an ambulance, and his secret will be safe. About Maxwell...
— Nothing that I could do.
— What goes up... must go down. Uh, sorry. But it's better laugh than cry at these moments.
— I saw him cry. For the first, and last time. Then he fell throught the floor. My guess is that Maxwell will keep falling until he reaches Earth's core.
— And what happens next?
— You already know. If you don't, Maxwell will.
— He'll be the first one to see a beautiful view of something never saw. I hope that picture will bring peace to its unrest soul.
Outside, the sun shines, before all turns dark. It ain't dark deep down the earth.