Pym's detector led them to the second force binding Harry's soul. Having Belial in tow seemed to deter any of the lower demons scattered about from harassing them.

"So tell me, Red," Belial said. "Your man was greedy, and by the looks of this place, a bit crazy, as well."

"First of all, Harry's not my man," MJ said. "He's a friend. Second of all, he wasn't a bad person. He just lost his way."

"Oh, he lost his way!" Belial said mockingly. "I hate it when that happens. Haven't they invented GPS up there yet? Or do you still go by the stars?"

"Don't bother talking to him, my dear," Pym said. "In fact, the less you say, the better."

Belial galloped ahead and stuck his face toward Pym's. "And what about you, Goliath? Why would you leave your comfortable little laboratory for the wild west? Do you have a thing for Red, here?"

"I'm not giving you free information, Lord Belial," Pym said. "If you act as an acceptable guide, I may treat you to another of my names."

"But I already have the name of the lovely Mary Jane Parker," Belial said. "Although it seems that there may be more to it than that."

Before she could reply, Hank interrupted. "Now, my dear, never give your name, least of all your full name. The power of a name is significant to these creatures."

"You call me creature," Belial intoned. "But the trappings you wear mark you as no ordinary mortal. Your appearance is unusual, your mannerisms abnormal. Where you come from, you are doubtless the outcast. The freak."

Pym offered no comment.

"Perhaps you'd like to continue your research without waiting for money from the lesser minds? From the trust-fund pretty boys who inherited their fortunes? What if you let me give you unlimited earthly riches? Then you would truly be a giant among men, Goliath, rather than the one they all sneer at behind your back."

Mary Jane was feeling pangs of sympathy for Pym, wondering if Belial somehow knew about Tony Stark. But Pym remained focused on his instrumentation. "The next binding force is seemingly associated with Osborn's mental illness. Is there a demon of mental illness living in this region?"

"Oh." Belial actually stopped trotting. "Oh, no. Not that Harry Osborn. Why do you want to release the soul of an Osborn? I was wrong about you two. You're not ordinary mortals. You're necromancers!"

"Okay, calm down," Mary Jane said. "We're not necromancers. Right, Goliath?"

"Of course not," Pym said. "Necromancers use magic to release evil spirits. We're using science."

"No!" Mary Jane exclaimed. "Harry is not an evil spirit."

"Yeah. Okay," Belial said. "He's here, he's a spirit. He did evil things. There's an expression for that in your home dimension, what is it? Potato, potah-to?"

"Look at his pheromone concentration, my dear," Pym said. "He's frantic. Lord Belial, what is it about the Osborn name that scares you?"

Then a voice with a familiar, manic quality answered for him. "Don't you know, necromancer? The Osborn line belongs to me!"

In front of them stood the Green Goblin.

Belial scampered away.

Mary Jane stared in shock at the Green Goblin. "Harry? Is that you?"

The Goblin cackled, but then his laughter turned into hacking coughs. Then, a different voice spoke.

"Yes, Mary Jane. It's me. Are you here to help me?"

"Mary Jane," Pym said.

"It's okay, Goliath. It's not him. That's not Harry's voice."

The Goblin clutched his chest. "Don't you know me, MJ? I was your boyfriend once. I was your best friend first. Before he came between us."

"Give it up," Mary Jane replied. "You may know Harry, but you're not him."

"You're right," the Goblin admitted. "I do know Harry. And I know you, too, Mary Jane. Abusive father, wayward siblings. But you were always the center of attention, everywhere you went. You get everything you want. The dream jobs, the shiny cars, the perfect husband. But the rich husband wasn't good enough for you. You wanted the one that could throw cars."

MJ looked at Pym. "Can I roast this guy now?"

"It might interest you to know, my dear, that my readings indicate this is not one of the native demons."

"Not a demon, am I?" the Goblin sneered. A massive, black, leather winged bat swooped down and the Goblin leaped astride its back. It flew forward and breathed flame at Pym and MJ.

The duo ducked down, managing to avoid being scorched by the flames. Pym shrunk down to avoid any damage to his equipment, but MJ's backpack was roasted. She quickly pushed it off her body, and, only moments later, Pym shrunk the slagged equipment out of sight.

Mary Jane watched it disappear, then felt a familiar nauseated feeling, and found herself shrunken, as well. She stood next to Pym, who was adjusting settings on his equipment.

"We are now only millimeters high," he said. "This will impede that bat from targeting us."

"Oh my God, Hank, I am so sorry."

"Oh, I'm not angry with you, Mary Jane. I'm actually quite excited. That bat creature appears to be a previously uncatalogued species. I may be the first in the scientific community to identify it."

"Hank, maybe—"

"They might call it the Pym Bat!"

"Hank! How are we going to beat this thing?"

Pym looked surprised. "To be honest, I was hoping you would tell me."

"Me?" she exclaimed.

"There have been no less than five distinct Green Goblins manifest independently in our home city. All of them have been defeated, directly or indirectly, by the efforts of your husband. Additionally, you have a personal connection with many of them."

"But, Hank!"

"Mary Jane," Pym said firmly. "I only agreed to this expedition because you have such a wealth of information on our target. Not to belabor the applicable cliché, but knowledge is power."

"Okay, Hank. I get it. It's not a native demon, which means it's probably from our dimension. It knows enough about Harry to impersonate him and enough about me to piss me off."

The black bat flew above their heads, unusually large and terrifying.

"It's not Norman," MJ said. "I would know that voice, too."

"Keep your ears peeled during the next phase of our battle," Pym said. "Determining his identity will be key to discovering his weaknesses."

"Right," she said.

"Plan of attack. I will fly aboard the bat's back and resume normal size. You will resume normal size on the ground and use your webshooters to subdue the bat, nonlethally if possible. I will attempt to subdue the Goblin."

"Hank, the webshooters."

"I saw them on your wrists. An older prototype, I assume?"

"Yes. But, Hank. I've practiced with them, but I've never used them in a situation like this."

"You'll be fine. I have faith in you. Ready?"

She set her jaw and nodded.

Pym returned her to normal size in time for her to witness the flying ant zipping up towards the bat.

Mary Jane followed the creature's trajectory, lined up her shot, adjusted the pressure settings and fired.

Both weblines connected squarely with the creature's shoulders. Mary Jane yanked as hard as she could, pulling the creature down with a shriek. At the same time, Pym grew to full size behind the Goblin, wrapped his arms around it, and hauled it down as they lost their seating on the flailing bat. Pym moved them into a roll that redistributed their momentum. Goliath and the Goblin rolled around on the ground, wrestling. Bolts of electricity rained from the Goblin's gloves, and Mary Jane was struck by how similar this being's arsenal was to the Osborn tech of Earth.

"Maybe these so-called demons don't know you," the Goblin said as he struggled. "But I know all of your names, Yellowjacket! Everyone in the academic community knows about the Ant Man. The genius who discovered the particle. And the madman who created Ultron. We all know the reason that Stark keeps you locked in the basement. To keep you from destroying the world!"

A stream of sticky web goo landed squarely in the Goblin's mouth, preventing further discourse. Mary Jane moved closer. "There was only one Goblin who was a member of the academic community," she said. "Harry's psychiatrist, Doctor Bart Hamilton."

The Goblin began making choking noises and shook violently for a moment. Then, his face began to morph into more human features.

"Excellent work, my dear!" Pym said. "You invoked his true name." He dealt the Goblin a few more decisive punches to the face. "It's nice to be recognized, Dr. Hamilton. I'm afraid I've never heard of you."

Hamilton's face twisted into a sneer more hateful than anything the Goblin's face had produced. "You wife-beating son of a bitch. You can search the entire multiverse for Janet Van Dyne. But, deep down, you know the truth. She ended her own existence, just to get away from you."

Mary Jane watched as Hank Pym's perfect composure shattered. Pain shadowed his face, and the scientist suddenly grew to an enormous height, one where his hand was the size of Hamilton's entire body.

"THAT WAS YOUR LAST MISTAKE," Goliath's voice boomed.

Pym's closed fist slammed down on Hamilton, splattering blood and viscera onto Mary Jane.